


while the rhythm of the rain keeps time

by zogratiscest



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alpha Uchiha Izuna, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Brotherly Affection, Dark Senju Hashirama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, M/M, Mpreg, Nesting, Omega Uchiha Madara, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Recovery, Scenting, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 82,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22902955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: uchiha izuna is in the office when the phone call from senju touka shatters the preconceived notions he had about his brother and his relationship with his supposed soulmate. but izuna is good and loving, and there is no one he would upend his life faster for than madara.
Relationships: Senju Touka/Uzumaki Mito, Uchiha Izuna/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 210
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

Alpha is angry with him.

The air in the bathroom grows heavy and tense the longer he stares down at the pregnancy test in his hands, as if sheer rage alone will coax its results to change. Madara huddles into himself on the lid of the toilet, perched and waiting to be told he has failed once more. No test is necessary for him to know that his body has yet to experience a successful heat cycle, not when fear skitters beneath his skin so often it feels as though it lives there.

His hands tremble as he clasps them between his knees, his head bowed as he voices a low and pleading whine. He does not dare to lift his head, his eyes trained on the tiled floor beneath him because looking up without permission is key to punishment.

He will be punished for failure anyway. Alpha never fails to put him in his place.

A hand gathers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling it taut before Alpha yanks. The pain blossoms, sensitive nerves set afire and Madara swallows back a cry as tears burn his eyes. Not too loud, or Alpha will gag him for making too much noise.

“I simply don’t understand what could be wrong with you.” Alpha’s hand twists in his hair, and Madara hiccups softly at the grinding pain in his scalp. “We had all of those specialized tests performed. There is nothing wrong with your uterus, nothing wrong with your ovaries. Your ovulation has been regular. Why can’t you  _ conceive, _ Madara?”

The question is a delicate one, but Madara merely wets his lips as he gives his head a small, fearful shake. It pulls at his roots to do so, but he cannot speak. He does not have permission, and Alpha is already so angry with him for this failure.

Fingers slip from his hair to cup his jaw, the touch too delicate and sensitive as his head is raised to meet those dark eyes he knows so well. “Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve given you food, I let you build that infernal nest in  _ my _ room, I fucked you until you  _ cried. _ ”

Madara’s lower lip wobbles as Alpha leans closer to him, his scent  _ sour _ with anger and permeating the air around them so thickly it makes Madara choke. “I’m, um, I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Every single thing I give you, and you give me absolutely nothing in return.” Alpha’s grip on his jaw turns tight, bruising, fingers digging into his skin until the bone grinds in protest. “All I ask is that you do the only thing an omega is even  _ good _ for!”

He shouts, and Madara whimpers in response, tears spilling down his cheeks as Alpha’s anger threatens to drain the air from his lungs. It is suffocating, too hot and heavy on him, too forceful. Inescapable. He failed to conceive because he is  _ afraid, _ because Alpha hurts him and screams at him and treats him like an object instead of an actual mate.

But he cannot dare say that. He remembers what happened the last time he tried.

“Haven’t I given you plenty?” Alpha lets go of his jaw in favor of wrapping strong fingers around his throat, and Madara tenses. “You have food, you have shelter. I dote on you more than enough. And you can’t even give me the pups you know I’m owed.”

_ No, _ Madara thinks, heart beating too fast in his chest as Alpha bears down on him, crowding into his personal space. He does not want to give Alpha pups because he will hurt them, and God save them if they are born omegas like Madara is. He would strike them, he would choke them, he may even  _ starve _ them if they disobey as children often do.

Madara wants to die at the thought of giving this man pups, of carrying them and nurturing them inside of his body only to have them ripped away and beaten in front of him.

“I listened to your incessant whining for  _ days. _ ” Alpha squeezes his throat, and Madara tries to slow his breathing. Tries not to panic. Hyperventilating will make him pass out quickly if Alpha chokes him, and he does not want to be slapped into consciousness.

Alpha should not hit him. Mates should never strike each other, much less an alpha striking an omega, but Madara is not strong enough to stop him. Tries and tries and  _ fails, _ left to curl up small and helpless and weak as he silently pleads for someone to come save him. His family that he is no longer allowed to speak to. His friends that know nothing of his suffering. Alpha’s brother, who is barred from coming to the house because he is too smart, too clever, able to see too much when he should see nothing at all.

“You can’t even be a good bitch and spread your legs when you’re supposed to.” Alpha brings a hand down hard on Madara’s thigh, the slap echoing in the bathroom. There will be a mark after that. “I shouldn’t have to force you to do your only job, Madara.”

He does not want to let Alpha touch him like that, does not want to be knotted by him, does not want to be bred. He tries to spend his heats curled up and alone, swallowing down the soft sounds meant for an alpha, meant to coax one close enough to care for him. But Alpha does not let him, will touch him even when Madara pleads with him not to, when his scent should be sour enough to ward him away from thinking about it.

Nothing ever stops him. Madara tries in vain, and he is hurt for his efforts.

Alpha’s palm is rough against the front of his throat, bearing down on his windpipe until Madara wheezes softly. His chest burns. His vision is blurry. “Well, there’s no reason we can’t keep trying, is there? You’re just at the very end of your cycle. Probably still ovulating. I’ll keep you on my knot for the next two days and God help you if you fail me.”

_ No. _ Madara whines up at him. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want Alpha to hurt him.

The hand at his throat loosens only so that Alpha can slap him, the impact hard enough to snap his head to the side. “Shut up! I’m so tired of your pathetic crying. You should be  _ happy. _ You don’t have to do anything but lay on your back all day long while I provide for you, and you still think you have a reason to whine at me? I don’t want to hear it!”

Madara can’t help it. The noises are biological, instinctual. He can’t help that Alpha hates the sound of them, refuses to listen to them. Cannot help being an injured and hurt omega in need of someone to protect him, trying so hard to get Alpha to stop hurting him.

His lips tremble as pain burns in his face. There will be a mark there, as well. The shape of Alpha’s hand on his skin, a reminder that he is nothing more than Alpha’s to use.

Rough hands yank him off of the toilet and drag him out of the bathroom, and Madara keens in alarm when he realizes Alpha is leading him back to the bedroom. His nest has already been removed from the bed, and his heart gives a frantic pang at the sight of that. Alpha must have torn it down when he was taking the test, and it makes him scared. Makes him uneasy, nervous. He grabs for the doorframe and clings to it.

“Stop that!” Alpha yanks harder at his arms but Madara digs his fingers into the wood and refuses to let go, heart climbing up into his throat. Not the bed.  _ No no no. _

A hand gathers in the air at the back of his neck. He expects the pull, not the push. The sharp pain that echoes through his skull when Alpha slams his head into the wood, his hands losing their grasp as he stumbles on his feet. Madara barely finds his balance before Alpha drags him back into the bedroom, bending him over the side of the mattress.

“You fucking bitch.” The hand is still there at the nape of his neck, pinning his face down against the mattress. “You think you have a right to tell me no? This is what you were made for, Madara. You’re nothing but my breeding bitch, so you better open your legs for me.”

Small, helpless sobs choke him as Madara weakly paws at the comforter, unable to close his knees before Alpha’s broad thighs are between them, keeping them wedged open.  _ Please don’t, _ he thinks, because he is so afraid, so scared. His body will not be wet, will not be welcoming, and Alpha will hurt him because he is far too big.  _ Please don’t hurt me. _

Strong fingers grip the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his thighs, and Madara whines in terror, struggling fruitlessly. Not stronger than Alpha, not enough to get away. Food has been taken from him and so much of his muscle mass has gone that he can no longer protect himself, too weak and pitiful to do anything but beg and cry.

“This is what you’re for, isn’t it?” Alpha presses down against him, breath hot against Madara’s ear, the bulge of his erection digging into Madara’s ass. “This is  _ all _ you’re for.”

_ No no no. _ Madara shakes his head blindly and struggles as much as his body will allow him to, the pain at the back of his skull keeping him almost complacent while he listens to the  _ clink _ of a belt buckle, the  _ rasp _ of a zipper. Please no. Not again. It hurt so much last time.

It hurt so much when Alpha ripped him open and bled him and then knotted him when he was sobbing brokenly and begging him to stop. He can’t survive it again. He can’t.

A sharp knock echoes through the house, stilling Alpha’s movements above him. The hand on his neck leaves only to smash itself over his mouth, fingers crammed between his lips to silence him. Tears leak uselessly from his eyes as Madara listens to the knock come again, listens to Alpha swear as he fumbles with the fly of his jeans.

“You better stay right here and not make a sound.” Alpha’s fingers press down hard on his tongue, gagging him. “No one’s going to take you away from me. No one is going to save you, and I will punish you  _ so _ much worse if you make a scene in front of company.”

Madara forces himself to be quiet, squeezing his eyes shut as he gives a small, helpless nod. Too afraid, too scared of what Alpha will do to him if he disobeys again.

“I would suggest getting your cunt ready for me while I’m handling that.” Alpha pulls his fingers tree, wipes the spit through Madara’s hair to dry them. “If I have to, I’ll go in dry. Be smart about this, Madara. You didn’t like it very much last time I did.”

The blind pain, the tearing, the blood sticky-hot on his thighs, the searing agony of having Alpha’s knot shoved inside of him when he was so tender and hurting…

Alpha leaves him on the bed, shutting the door behind him while Madara slides off of the mattress, silent tears burning tracks down his cheeks as he presses his hands between his legs and cries.  _ Please don’t, _ he thinks blindly, hiccuping softly as he tilts his head toward the bedroom door. He wants to call out to Alpha, to beg him not to do it, because it hurts so much and it isn’t Madara’s fault he hasn’t whelped yet. He’s trying so hard.

But Alpha won’t try what the doctors wanted to try. He wants to do it traditionally. He refuses to accept that fucking Madara through his heats has not been enough.

_ “Where’s your pretty omega at?” _ The voice is familiar enough to Madara’s ears. He slinks across the carpet, pressing his ear to the wood, trying to place it.  _ “Is he in bed?” _

_ “His heat cycle just wrapped up, so he’s lazing around in his nest.” _ Alpha sounds so different now, his voice light and warm and gentle. Like he never is with Madara.

Soft laughter.  _ “Poor, sweet thing. They always tire Mito out so much. So, as I was—” _

_ Mito. _ Madara fixates on the name, his breath catching in his throat as he eyes the knob above his head, because he can place the voice now. Touka. Alpha’s cousin, Touka, the one with the sharp yet friendly smile, the warm eyes, the gentle voice. He remembers her because he remembers meeting Mito, the crimson-haired omega who was so kind to him, so warm with him, welcomed him into the family with so much poise and grace.

Do they know how Alpha treats him? No. They can’t know. Mito is so happy and warm, and Touka is so strong and kind. He… He could try to reach her… He could—

And if she does not care, Alpha will punish him worse for trying. He might even kill him, the thought dragging such blind terror out of Madara’s heart that he presses himself back into the wall as it threatens to swallow him. Pinned beneath Alpha, hands around his throat, hurting him, fucking him until he bleeds and cries and choking the air out of him.

But if he does nothing, and Touka does not know… This may be his only chance at freedom.

He can’t remember what it is like to sleep without nightmares, to walk through a house without being gripped by blind terror, to not second guess every single choice. He can’t. But he doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to be somewhere safe.

Madara pulls his underwear back up his legs, sniffling pitifully as he stumbles up to his feet, using the wall for balance. His nape hurts, and his throat hurts, but he can do this. He can. He  _ has _ to, or Alpha will never stop until Madara ends up dead.

His hands are trembling as he reaches for the doorknob, his fingers hesitation on the smooth polished gold of it before he grips it and turns it as silently as possible. Alpha and Touka are downstairs. Her ears are sharp. Surely, she’ll know what’s wrong.

What if Alpha hurts her? What if he… Madara’s hands start to fall away, but he shakes his head as he slowly cracks the door open. He has to try. Touka is strong. Alpha may be big, but Touka is so strong. She used to wrestle him in the yard when they were still courting, used to pin him down with ease. Touka will be able to fight him off if need be.

The pounding of his heart in his chest is deafening as Madara creeps toward the stairs, his steps as light as possible, careful not to step on any of the boards that creak as he makes his way down to the first floor. Voices come from the kitchen, and he freezes, head cocked toward them, listening carefully. What if Alpha comes this way first? What if..?

“I’ll give you a flower to take to Mito from the garden,” Alpha says, and Madara squeezes his eyes shut in thanks. “She likes lilies still, yes? I have some beautiful ones.”

“They are her favorites,” Touka admits, and her voice is so lovely and warm, so fond.

Madara’s heart aches. He wishes Alpha would speak to him,  _ about _ him, like that.

He waits until he hears Alpha’s footsteps carry him to the back door, waits until it slides shut before he scurries into the kitchen, his palms sweating. His shoulder bangs into the doorway but he barely feels it; the sound startles Touka, who turns around to look up at him. There is a moment of silence, a half-second, before her eyes widen and she leaps to her feet. He can feel her looking at the marks, at the bruises on his throat.

“Madara?” Her voice is haunted and pained as she strides toward him, her arms so gentle as they wrap around him. “Honey, oh my God, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Help,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on the glass door. “Help please. Before he… Before…”

“All right.” Touka pushes him toward the front door without looking back, and he hears the soft jingle of her car keys in her hand as she herds him. “Come on, we’ll go quickly.”

No sound leaves his throat as Touka slips him out the front door, and Madara cannot even be embarrassed about only wearing his underwear and an old tank top in front of the neighbors. His legs are trembling as Touka helps him into the passenger seat of her cat, every movement as quiet and careful as possible, as delicate as she can make it.

Only when she sits down in the driver’s seat does she make any sound, the engine gunning to life before she backs out of the driveway so quickly his stomach twists. His hands are trembling as he buckles his seatbelt, not looking up. Not looking to see if Alpha has heard, if he’s coming, if he’s just  _ staring _ at them. Tears of gratitude pour down his face.

“Baby, baby.” Touka tucks one of her hands into his and Madara pulls it up to his face, rubbing his cheek against her knuckles. “You’re safe now, it’s okay. I had no fucking idea he was… Madara, I am so sorry. We’re going to take you somewhere safe where he won’t ever be able to touch you again, okay? I can’t fucking  _ believe _ he would… No, baby, it’s—”

“Thank you.” Madara sobs openly now, clinging to her hand, shaking with the force of his relief, lacing his fingers with Touka’s. Kissing her hand. “Thank you thank you  _ thank you. _ ”

She says nothing more, just croons to him to soothe him while he cries out the knot of fear and pain and anguish that has been wrapped so tight around his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have finally stopped lurking on ao3 and decided to build a proper account because there is not nearly enough izumada to go around, and i have finally accepted i should do something about that (like write it lolol)
> 
> heed the warnings in the tags. this fic is going to be a heavy one. also i love hashirama so much, i promise, this fic in no way means that i hate him. he just fits into the role of evil bastard who hides behind a smile so well.
> 
> also i have never written fic before! so please be gentle this is my first time.


	2. Chapter 2

Grey clouds begin rolling across the sky five minutes before the phone call comes.

Izuna stands so he can stretch, popping the stiffness out of his back and striding up to his office window to look up at the sky. His lips twist into a little frown at the thought of rain that he does not remember hearing about in the forecast on the way to work. Might have been his irritation distracting him from the news. He never does play well with others when it comes to driving, and people in the city drive like they have nothing to live for.

He rubs a hand over his mouth, wondering if Tobirama would be angry with him for taking lunch early so he can go for his daily run. The piercing tone of his cell phone ringing distracts him from the thought entirely. It must be a business associate this time of day.

Giving himself a little shake, he returns to his desk, frowning as he picks up the phone.  _ Touka _ is emblazoned across the screen, though Izuna cannot recall the last time she called him off the top of his head. Maybe never. He might have saved her number just in case.

“Hello?” He smothers a yawn against the palm of his hand. The day has been a long one, though he is pleased with how much paperwork he has managed to get through so far.

_ “Izuna?” _ Touka’s voice sounds decidedly off. Izuna does not know her well, but anyone would have noticed the slight waver in her tone.  _ “Are you sitting down? I need you to.” _

Dread prickles in his stomach as he slowly lowers himself back into his chair, fingers drumming nervously on the arm. “All right, I’m sitting. Touka, what’s going on?”

_ “I went to see Hashirama this morning because I needed to talk to him about— That doesn’t matter, actually.” _ Touka cuts herself off with a brisk tone, but the dread in Izuna’s stomach thickens considerably at the sound of her cousin’s name.  _ “And I ended up sneaking out of the house with Madara in tow. He… Hashirama was—” _

“Sneaking out? Why did you have to sneak out?” Izuna frowns, spinning toward the windows once more, wincing at the crack of thunder in the distance. Rain for certain then, potentially a storm. He hates storms. The shift in air pressure makes his skin crawl.

Keeping himself calm right now is nearly impossible. His grip on the chair arm tightens until the plastic creaks in protest. When it  _ cracks _ under his hand, he looks down to see a piece of it has come off in his hand, scratching his palm. No blood. He barely feels the sting of pain, letting the plastic hit the carpet beneath him without a thought.

Touka exhales shakily, and he cocks his head toward the phone even if Touka cannot see him.  _ “Hashirama has been abusing him, Izuna. I’m at the hospital with him right now. He doesn’t want to let them examine him because he’s scared. He asked for you.” _

“What?” Izuna’s stomach falls out of his body and plummets to the floor. He can almost hear the wet  _ squish _ of it. “No, you… He… Hashirama… What did… Did he do to Nii-san?”

_ “When I saw him, he had a handprint on his face like someone slapped him and bruises around his. Around his throat.” _ Touka makes a small, thin noise of pain. For just a moment, Izuna’s vision bleeds entirely red, bloody crimson as he imagines what Hashirama’s face purpling under the pressure of Izuna’s hands around his throat would look like.  _ “You need to come down here as soon as you can, please. Madara needs you so much.” _

Madara asked for him. Izuna closes his eyes, willing himself to breathe. He needs to be calm for his brother, needs to be the shoulder for him to lean on. Hashirama was his best friend, his alpha, his mate… “I’m coming. Please tell him I’m on the way. How bad is it? How badly is he hurt? Are the bruises the worst of it, or is there…”

He almost doesn’t want to know the answer to that question, not when the drive is already going to test his patience and strength of will more than anything ever has. Madara… No, the thought of him in pain at the hands of someone who is supposed to love him lights something bestial in Izuna’s chest on fire. He was at their  _ bonding ceremony. _ He was there when Hashirama was courting Madara with the intent on mating him.

The bastard hurt his brother. Izuna is going to tear him apart with teeth and claws.

_ “It’s very bad. I’m not going to lie to you.” _ Touka’s breath hitches, and Izuna can only imagine how much it must be plaguing her instincts alone.  _ “Just get here, all right? I’d let you talk to him, but I’m not allowed in the room with him. Only you would be.” _

“I’m leaving the office right now. Just… I’m coming. I am. And thank you for calling me.” Izuna hangs up the phone, disinterested with talking further, and rounds his desk so hard that his hip slams into the corner of it. Even the bright spark of pain does not slow him.

Tobirama is waiting on the other side of the door when Izuna wrenches it open, hand raised as though he was poised to knock. “Ah, you’re not busy. I needed to… Uchiha?”

“Out of the way. I need to go now.” Izuna will feel bad about this later, but right now there is too much distance between him and Madara, and his brother needs him. His beautiful, kind, sharp-tongued brother needs him. “It’s an emergency.  _ Move, _ Tobira.”

A pale brow slowly rises as Tobirama lowers his hand, his lips twisting into an unimpressed frown. “Is it an actual emergency, or are you trying to sneak out of the office early?”

It takes a mighty effort to resist the urge to physically shove him out of the way, but Tobirama is a stickler for the rules. Izuna would face a harassment suit in a heartbeat for his efforts. “My brother is at the hospital right now and he needs me. Your fucking  _ monster _ of a brother put his hands on Madara. Now get out of my way.”

“...Tell me more about this later.” Tobirama side-steps smoothly, and Izuna brushes past him, relieved he does not literally have to mow down his sole business partner.

“Call your cousin,” he throws over his shoulder. “She’s the one who saved him.”

The elevator takes too long to bring him down to the ground floor of the office building they use for their business headquarters. Izuna covers the distance in seconds, nearly running into a woman he does not recognize as he vaults down the handful of steps outside and toward his car. His hands are shaking, his palms slick with sweat. They slide on the steering wheel when he grips it, his grip panicky tight, knuckles bleeding white.

Madara is hurt. Madara is in a hospital room so afraid and alone and waiting for Izuna to come be with him so that the doctors can assess the damage and care for him. Madara has been living with someone who hurts him, maybe even daily. Someone meant to love him.

Izuna hates, blindly and without direction. Then he twists his key in the ignition.

Though the hospital is at least half an hour away, Izuna makes it through the drive without trying to T-bone someone in his impatience to reach his brother’s side faster. Touka would not give him a direct answer about the extent of the abuse, so he assumes the worst. Madara could want him close for any procedures or examinations just to have someone safe in the room, but Izuna knows better. He knows, deep down in his churning guts, why Madara is so desperate to have him near. What is making him so uncomfortable.

Touka meets him in the waiting room of the ER, her makeup smudged and her hair falling out of its normally pristine knot. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I wished I’d known sooner.”

“I didn’t know either. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He sucks in a thin breath. Hospitals make him antsy. The clinical scent burns his nose, his already-scattered instincts hissing in displeasure at his location. “What happened to Hashirama? Did you call the police?”

“I sent them to his house as soon as we made it to the hospital. Madara held my hand, so I didn’t have a free one to make the call with.” Touka’s eyes glisten slightly with tears, but she does her best to hold them in. Izuna can tell how hard she’s trying.

He bumps his forehead against her shoulder, the most companionable gesture he can manage with his frazzled nerves, and hurries to the desk to be taken to Madara.

The process is agonizing minutes spent showing his identification and riding in an elevator that is far too slow, his heart beating in his throat. Madara needs him.  _ Madara needs him. _

Izuna smells him as soon as he steps off of the elevator, the familiar scent soured by fear and pain so deep it cuts a hot swathe of anguish through his guts. He follows that scent to the room he was given at the front desk, his hand trembling as he stretches his hand up to knock on the door. There are no police officers in sight yet, which is good. He wouldn’t want anyone around Madara before he could be here to offer him support.

A nurse opens the door, her expression kind as she smiles hopefully up at him. “Uchiha Izuna?” she asks, and he nods, his throat too tight for him to manage words.

He is allowed into the room, forcing one foot in front of the other at a normal, human speed and not the frenzied bounds he wants to take across the room, leaping up onto the bed so he can wrap his brother in his arms and protect him from everything. From the doctors, the examinations, the pain, his fucking  _ mate _ — And then he sees Madara, and every emotion dies in his chest. All that remains is agony.

“Otouto.” Madara’s voice is rough, his hand shaking as he stretches it toward Izuna, who is at his side in an instant. The nurse gasps, so he knows he ran too quickly. “Izuna.”

“I’m here.” Izuna takes Madara’s hand in his both of his, kissing his knuckles and pressing the back of Madara’s hand to his cheek. “Nii-san, I’m here for you. I’m so sorry.”

A soft hiccup catches in his throat as he touches Madara’s face carefully, tracing the shape of a handprint embedded rough and red and angry into his skin. It belies logic, that someone would ever strike Madara like this. No alpha should put their hands on an omega, and it hurts him in a primal way to see someone has slapped his brother so hard.

His fingers drop down to Madara’s throat, to the blue-black bruising there. Izuna sobs softly, heart twisting in absolute misery. “I’m sorry. I should have been there. I’m…”

He manages no other words as he climbs up onto the hospital bed with Madara, wrapping his arms around his brother’s shoulders to hold him close. It must be what Madara wants. His grip is panicky tight as he embraces Izuna, face pressing so hard into his throat it nearly hurts as he whimpers into Izuna’s skin. His scent is cloyingly sour and sad, and that breaks Izuna’s heart all the way through to the core. Madara should never be sad.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Izuna combs his fingers through Madara’s hair, gentle as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. The way he squirms and whimpers instead of going lax under Izuna’s touch is frightening. “I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again.”

He can almost taste Senju Hashirama’s hot arterial blood heavy on his tongue.

“Uchiha-san,” the nurse says softly. “There are some examinations we’d like to do.”

Izuna knows this, but it takes so much of his strength to turn to look at her, refusing to untangle himself from his brother’s arms. “What kind of examinations are those?”

Her smile is kind, but the sadness in her eyes speaks volumes. “Our initial examination revealed bruising along the inner thighs and genital region. We wanted to perform an internal examination to make sure there are no injuries that could grow infected.”

Bruising along… Izuna bites back a scream and nods, tucking his face down into his brother’s soft, dark hair. “If I stay with you, will you let them look? I’ll let you hold my hands the entire time, and I will not leave you. I promise you that, Madara.”

“It’s going to hurt.” Madara sniffles against his throat, and Izuna weeps silently as he gathers him as close as he can. “I don’t want it to hurt anymore, Izuna.”

“They only have to look once. If you’re hurting, it could get worse if they don’t do anything about it.” Izuna leans down to kiss Madara’s forehead, brushing some of the tears off of his cheeks. There are pale swathes of tears cut into his skin, his eyes red and swollen. How many tears has he cried? How many times has he keened and whined for an alpha to come save him? And none of it reached Izuna. He has failed his brother. “I’ll stay right here with you. No one is going to hurt you like that bastard did with me here.”

He kisses Madara on the forehead again, cajoling him to lay back down on the bed. Climbing off of it is not an option, but Izuna forces himself to do so, letting Madara keep his hands. Their fingers twine together as they had so often in childhood, when Izuna clung to his beautiful omega brother, baring his teeth at everyone in an effort to protect him.

Alphas as young as five years old will often try to protect their omega parents. Izuna was the same, walking in front of Madara and their father, snapping and snarling at anyone who dared to come too close. And yet, he has failed to keep Madara safe as an adult.

“I don’t…” Madara whimpers up at him, and Izuna croons softly in answer, trying to settle his scent. He wants it to be comforting. He wants to wrap Madara up in safety and kindness to let him know that no one will ever hurt him again. “I don’t know where to go.”

“You can stay with me. You don’t ever have to go back there.” Izuna squeezes his hands, and the gratitude in Madara’s dark eyes overwhelms him totally and fully.

The examination is conducted as gently as possible; Izuna thanks God for the doctor who comes and her status as a beta, her scent soothing Madara as much as possible while she does her job. He listens to her murmured words as he talks to his brother, trying not to wince at every statement. Genital bruising, vaginal  _ scarring _ , evidence he may have been forcefully knotted when he was not ready. His poor, poor brother has suffered so much.

“There are no open wounds,” the doctor says, and Izuna breathes the only sigh of relief he has been allowed as he kisses Madara’s hair once more. She removes her gloves with care, and like the nurse, her expression is solemn and sad. “I can prescribe something for the pain. None of his injuries would lead me to recommending he stay in the hospital.”

Izuna nods as he combs his fingers through Madara’s hair, letting his brother nuzzle up against his throat once more. “That would be appreciated. What about his mark?”

“Initially,” the nurse says, “we were confused when he mentioned having an alpha. He doesn’t have a mark, Uchiha-san. Was there a proper bonding ceremony?”

There was. Izuna was there. “Yes, I… Do you think the… Circumstances caused a bond rejection? I’ve heard such things can happen, I’ve just never seen it.”

Because most alphas he knows are not psychotic enough to beat their poor omegas.

“Likely so. Most marks break down naturally in the event of a mate’s death, though rejection would do the same thing.” The doctor makes some notes on her clipboard. “I’ll have the discharge papers gathered together. Here’s the prescription as well.”

Izuna takes the script of paper and settles back down on the edge of the bed, letting Madara half-climb into his lap as he rubs his hands over his brother’s back. He  _ has _ lost weight, and muscle mass, and Izuna swallows a snarl at the thought. Madara has always been a broad and strong omega, carrying muscle in his chest and shoulders and arms, but evidently Hashirama has had a hand in changing that as well. The fucking  _ bastard. _

“I’m sorry. I don’t… Don’t want to be a burden.” Madara leans back to look at him, bruised and tired and so, so in need of someone to take care of him and love him.

“You could never be a burden to me, Nii-san.” Izuna draws Madara back down into his arms, threading his fingers through Madara’s hair, urging him to stay as close and warm as he likes. “You can stay with me as long as you’d like. You know I’m happy to have you home.”

Madara keens softly up at him, and Izuna answers with a low croon of his own. He pets down Madara’s spine, sighing softly when his brother finally relaxes against him. “I love you so much,” Madara whispers up to him, clinging to him like he thinks Izuna will leave him.

“I love you, too.” Izuna closes his eyes, hoping the police get to Hashirama before Izuna needs to fashion himself into a proper murderer. “So, so much.”

Madara can stay safe and sound in his guest bedroom while he heals, and Izuna will watch over him as he always has since the two of them were small. This time, he will not fail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the comments, kudos, and subscriptions! it means so much to me that people are reading and enjoying this story. i hope you all continue to enjoy it.
> 
> and here we have izuna trying his best to be a good little brother for madara.


	3. Chapter 3

While they wait for the paperwork to process, Izuna fires off a few rapid fire text messages with the hand he has available to him. The other is tucked securely in Madara’s hold, and he doesn’t have the heart to take it back even long enough to tell any of the people who matter to call him later this evening when they get a chance. He does not have to text Tobirama at all, who sent him a curt  _ “I understand”  _ when he was in the car.

At least he understands. Izuna cannot imagine having a conversation with him that revolves around the fact his big brother abused Izuna’s. Hashirama raised his little brothers, after all. Most of them hold him in high regard just for that purpose alone.

Tobirama is a good man. Izuna trusts him to feel the right way.

He needs to tell their father what happened. Tajima is out of the country for the time being, on a trip with his current boy toy. Interrupting them would have him home as soon as possible, and Izuna does not want that. He thinks having so many people floundering around them at once would be worse for Madara than it would be better. As much as he loves Tajima, he wants to give Madara a chance for some uninterrupted peace.

“Are you okay with me waiting until Otousama comes home to tell him what happened?” he asks, not glancing up from his phone. If he looks at Madara, he will abandon his resolve to talk to anyone and wrap himself around his older brother once again.

“Uh huh.” Madara shifts closer to him, his head coming to rest against Izuna’s shoulder.

He must be tired. Izuna wants to get him home, make sure he eats something, and let him take some of the pain medicine prescribed to him so he can rest. If Madara will not sleep without Izuna near, he can perch outside the bedroom door like a guard dog.

“I’ve got a nice guest room. I don’t think you’ve seen it since I finished remodeling it.” Izuna shifts his hand in Madara’s hold so he can rub his thumb over Madara’s knuckles. “It’s all yours. You can stay for as long as you want, you know. I don’t mind.”

Madara makes a low, soft sound against the side of his throat. “‘Kay, Otouto. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Izuna finishes the last message, shuts his phone off, and shoves it into the back pocket of the jeans Tobirama hates him for wearing to the office. “You’re my brother. There’s literally nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you.”

The hands around his spasm before gripping his fingers tighter. The quiet noise Madara makes at him now is a sweeter sound, a soft little croon as he cuddles himself as close as the hospital bed will allow him to. It isn’t soft enough for him, but Izuna’s guest room has a great mattress. He should be able to get  _ hours _ of sleep with how soft it is.

When the paperwork processes and they are allowed to go, Izuna helps Madara into the clothes the nurse brings them with a sad, knowing smile. He imagines Madara must have come to the hospital in something, but no one mentions it to him. If he saw the clothes, he thinks it might just make him angrier than he is, so maybe there is a good reason for that.

Most hospitals provide clothes for omegas who need them anyway. The sweatshirt and sweatpants are soft enough to the touch even if they carry that  _ absent _ scent, one that says they were washed and packed away so that they would pick up no additional smell.

“Do you want help?” he asks, setting the clothes down on the bed and sliding off of the mattress to give Madara room. He only gets so far when Madara refuses to let go of his hand. “Nii-san, it’s all right. You just have to get dressed and then I can take you home.”

Madara nods, a jerky little motion, but still struggles to pry his fingers free from Izuna’s own. “I”m sorry,” he whispers, like he thinks Izuna is going to harm him.

“Hey.” Izuna steps closer to him once more, careful as he cups his brother’s face once more, careful not to touch the reddened flesh where Hashirama slapped him. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me you’re sorry. I know you’re scared, but I’m here now. You’re safe.”

“Safe…” Madara sniffles softly and Izuna leans closer, pressing his lips to Madara’s forehead and narrowly avoiding a mouthful of hair in the process.

“So safe. You think I’d let anyone hurt you? Remember when we were kids?” Izuna helps Madara move to the edge of the mattress, unbothered when Madara leans closer to him, nuzzling against his throat. If being close to his scent gland is comforting to Madara, then Izuna will allow it, of course. “Remember that one alpha who tried to make fun of you for wearing a skirt? Remember how I got suspended because I broke his nose?”

A soft giggle reaches his ears. It is, without a doubt, the most beautiful sound Izuna has heard since he walked into this hospital room.  _ There you are, Nii-san. _

“I remember that. You’re a good brother.” Madara leans back to look at him, then glances at the clothes, his nose twitching faintly before he grumbles in displeasure.

“You’ve left some clothes at my house, so you can change into those when you get there.” Though privately, Izuna thinks they may not fit him properly anymore. He  _ has _ lost weight.

Madara nods, though his expression is absent as he brushes his fingers over the soft pale green material of the shirt. “You’ll help me get changed? I’m… Hurts a little.”

“Of course. I’m here for you, remember?” Izuna kisses the side of his head, picking up the sweatshirt and shaking it out. It will do, he thinks. “Let’s get the hospital gown off.”

There are visible bruises beneath the gown that Izuna does not see until he helps Madara take it off. His heart aches when Madara curls inward, as if trying to hide the evidence, but Izuna croons to him and pets his hand down Madara’s spine to help him relax. To help him remember Izuna is here to help him, not here to judge him. Not here to make him feel inadequate or disgusting for suffering as much as he has.

“I’d like to get some food in you once we get home,” he says, helping Madara slip the sweatshirt on over his head, careful of his tender, bruised skin and his face. He gathers Madara’s hair up, slipping it out from under the fabric to keep it from catching and pulling. “You can have whatever you want. Maybe you want to pick something out on the way home? I’ll make as many stops as you need me to make, Nii-san.”

Madara peeks at him from under his lashes, his cheeks dusting just faintly with pink before he ducks his head. Trembling fingers tug at the bottom of the shirt, pulling it over his underwear. At least his boxers are clean and seem to fit him, Izuna thinks, though he can faintly smell  _ Hashirama _ . “You don’t have to. For me. Anything is fine. I’m not picky.”

“But I want to. Take care of you.” Izuna cups his cheek and urges Madara to look at him.

“Thank you.” Madara leans into his palm, his lashes fluttering softly as his eyes fall shut. So totally soothed by Izuna’s touch that he could fall asleep right here by the looks of it.

“Pants now. I can help.” Izuna picks up the sweatpants and kneels, sliding them up Madara’s legs and only urging him off the hospital bed to get them up over his hips.

The way Madara wavers on his feet before taking Izuna by the shoulders for balance is concerning. He might just be tired, might just be sore. Or he could be starving. Izuna will make sure to get him as much food as he can physically handle eating, and some for later.

Slowly, Madara hugs him around the shoulders, burying his face against the side of Izuna’s head as he inhales deeply. Izuna lets him, setting his arms around Madara’s waist to keep him on his feet. Letting him take as much comfort as he needs without a word.

He cannot imagine how much pain Madara has been through, how much has been done to him that Izuna will never know about. There are guesses he can make and evidence he can see, but he doubts he will ever know the true story. And knowing would ultimately change nothing, because there is no way Izuna can travel back in time to stop all of it.

What he can do is let Madara breathe in his scent and cling to him, to take comfort in Izuna’s presence until he feels settled. That is more than easy enough.

“Don’t have shoes, do you?” he asks, playing idly with the ends of Madara’s long hair.

Madara pauses, then shakes his head. “I came to the hospital barefoot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s all right.” He does have the soft socks with the rubber pieces on the bottom to keep from sliding on the tiled floors, so Izuna’s concern is slightly soothed by this.

He leads Madara to the elevator, relieved they do not need to bother with a wheelchair and that he can let Madara cling to him as much as he wants to. An elderly gentleman in the elevator gives them a sympathetic look when Madara huddles into Izuna’s side, tucking his face into Izuna’s shoulder like he does not want anyone else to see him.

Izuna allows a soft, vibrating rumble to gather in his chest. The way Madara sags against him in only the short elevator ride is proof of just how much comfort he needs. Maybe Izuna can curl up next to him in bed and rumble for him until he falls asleep. It is a biological sound, one meant to reassure and comfort an omega, and usually a sound that expresses an alpha’s happiness. Izuna could not be farther from happiness if he tried.

Well, he could be. But Madara is alive, so he is held back from that precipice.

Touka is still waiting for them in the emergency room when they step down the hallway together. Her face visibly softens and brightens, and Izuna is glad for her. “Sorry for hanging around. I just… Couldn’t leave without making sure he was safe.”

“Safe and sound now.” Izuna tilts his head, kissing the top of Madara’s. “Say bye, hmm?”

Madara shivers slightly but lifts his head, offering Touka a small, barely-there smile. “Thank you for helping, Touka,” he says, and Izuna squeezes his hand in approval.

“Of course. Just let me know if you two need anything, all right?” Touka gathers up her coat, shrugging her arms back into it, and Izuna bites back a small, irritated noise because right, the rain. “I need to get home to Mito. I’ve talked to her a few times to let her know what’s going on, and she’s worried, so I have some work to do when I get home.”

“ _ Work, _ ” Izuna teases her, and Touka smiles ruefully up at him.

He makes a request at the front desk before they dare step outside, pleased when a blanket is brought to him so he can wrap Madara up in it to keep him from getting wet. That his brother merely stands still and allows Izuna to tuck the blanket around him is relieving, and it soothes Izuna’s rattled instincts to be allowed to take care of him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and Madara only blinks at him, looking confused as Izuna presses his keys into Madara’s hands. “Unlock the car for me when we get there. My hands are going to be full, and I don’t trust myself not to drop them in the process.”

“Full?” Madara eyes his hands, then gives himself a shake and nods. “Okay. I can do that.”

Izuna lets him walk down the indoor, carpeted hallway that leads outside, stopping at the last door to sweep Madara off of his feet, cradling his solid weight against his chest as they step out into the afternoon. The rain has let up significantly, only a light mist now, and Izuna is pleased with that as he carries Madara to his car. That his brother only lies docilely in his arms instead of shrieking and smacking him makes his heart hurt.

“You don’t have to do this,” Madara tells him even as he presses his forehead against Izuna’s neck, fingers tentatively curling in the collar of his V-neck.

“But you’d get your feet wet if I made you walk,” Izuna says, and Madara nods slightly.

Physical strength is natural for any alpha, and Izuna takes significant care of himself. Too many people look at his slim stature and assume him weak and small, but every centimeter of his body is hard and carved lean muscle. Perfect for taking care of an omega, and perfect for carrying his sweet and tired brother to the car so his feet will not get wet. He could catch a cold, and Izuna cannot abide the thought of Madara being sick.

And maybe, just maybe, he enjoys being able to do these small things for Madara.

They get the car unlocked and he settles Madara into the passenger seat, buckling him in so he can stay wrapped up in the blanket, pressing a kiss to his temple. “See? Easy.”

“Yeah.” Madara presses the keys back into his fingers, and Izuna lingers for a moment, just petting his brother’s hair. “You don’t have to get me anything to eat, Izuna.”

“But I want to. I like being an insufferable bother.” He grins when Madara giggles softly again, and he kisses Madara on the head again because he can.

A soft skitter of excitement in his stomach makes him smile as he sits down in the driver’s seat, buckling himself in and turning the engine over. It’s been too long since the last time Madara was able to come visit him, and the prospect of taking him home and keeping him warm and safe is doing things for Izuna. Any alpha would trip over themselves to take care of the omegas in their family, and Izuna has never been any different.

He lets the car idle, glancing over at Madara. “So, food. Do you want me to make you something? Or we can stop for something on the way home. What sounds good to you?”

Madara shrugs, ducking down into his blanket a little as he settles in his seat. “Soup?”

“Guess it is a soup day with the rain.” Izuna backs out of his parking spot. “Soup it is.”

There is a deli they can stop by to pick up soup— one that makes Madara’s  _ favorites, _ so Izuna will just get one of each and store them in the refrigerator until he wants them. For now, Izuna is happy just to have Madara dozing off in the seat next to him, looking so safe and warm that it makes his heart warm and settles the nerves in his stomach.

At a red light with a hell of a wait, Izuna turns his phone back on just to make sure nothing has burned down in his momentary absence. Most of the messages he receives back are reassuring, though it is the string from Tobirama that makes him pause.

_ Ani-ja came to the office. He believed Touka would bring Madara to one of us. I locked myself in the office, initiated lockdown, and the police came to collect him. You have nothing to worry about as far as him coming to bother you or Madara. _

_ Thank you, _ Izuna quickly types back, eyeing the line of traffic in front of him to make sure he has plenty of time.  _ I’m taking him home now. Thank you so much, Tobirama. _

_ Of course. Take care of Madara and let me know if there is anything I can do to help. _

Izuna turns his phone back off. Traffic moves, and he reroutes to swing by the deli. Next to him, Madara snores softly in his sleep, finally soothed enough to get some rest.

He buys an obscene amount of soup and pointedly ignores the way the cashier looks at him as he pays for it.  _ Three bags _ worth of soup is hardly that much in the grand scheme of things, and Madara might be incredibly hungry when Izuna gets him home and coaxes him into eating. He needs to eat. Losing weight and muscle like that… He could  _ kill _ Hashirama, but the man is now protected by the jail system. Soon to be the prison system.

Healthy omegas usually care more weight around their hips and stomach, and who in God’s name would be angry about a muscular omega? The stronger the better, the more capable of protecting and shielding pups when they’re still young.

Izuna will fix that. While the bruises heal and fade, he will ensure that Madara goes back to eating a healthy amount of food, putting on the weight he lost. Try to soothe the discomfort he felt when Izuna touched the nape of his neck so that he knows that is a good and safe place to be touched by a trusting alpha. Teach him that he does not need to say  _ thank you _ for every small, simple thing Izuna wants to do for him.

He just wants to help his brother. He wants Madara to smile freely, not to whimper and cry and hide away because he is afraid. No matter how long it takes, Izuna will do it.

Simple things first. Soup, medicine, and plenty of rest. He can do that much right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time to get his nii-san home and safe!
> 
> thank you all again for the lovely support. it makes me smile so much that people are here and reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Izuna makes three trips from his garage to the house as quickly as he can. One trip to unlock the front door. One trip to take the soup inside and set it carefully on the kitchen table so that none of the bowls topple over. And one trip to carry his sleeping brother inside, refusing to wake him up when opening his car door and unbuckling his seatbelt does not. Izuna does not mind, easily handling Madara’s weight in his arms as he shuts the car door with his hip and carries him over the threshold of the house.

A petulant  _ meow _ at his feet prompts a roll of the eyes as he steps into the house the last time, setting Madara down on the couch as gently as he can. His massive cat has taken up residence just inside the doorway of the house, looking up at Izuna resentfully. As if he has any right to, considering Izuna came home  _ early, _ leaving work to collect Madara.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers. He shuts the front door and locks it, leaning down to give the cat a few quick pets. “Go somewhere else to complain, Kurama.”

He narrowly avoids having his hand swiped before Kurama takes off down the hallway. Of course, Izuna has managed to adopt the most opinionated cat in the history of Japan.

While Madara continues to sleep, Izuna occupies himself with going upstairs to the guest bedroom. He keeps it aired out just in case family comes to visit, which is more often than he would have expected when he bought the house. He renovated it months ago, and it hits him just how long it has been since the last time Madara came to visit him.

Disgust coils in his guts as he smooths his fingers over the bedspread. How could he have failed to notice Madara kept putting off coming over to visit him? There were always excuses, and they sounded so genuine to him at the time. An early heat, pre-arranged plans, a getaway from the city. He never noticed the weight loss either, but Madara has always run cold, wrapping himself up in as many layers as he can locate.

He used to steal Izuna’s sweatshirts right out of his closet when his shoulders were still narrow enough to fit inside of them. He used to wear a jacket on cool days of the  _ summer, _ as if the temperature dropping down to a tolerable level was too cold for him. It meant winter was always a miserable time. Madara slept with  _ four blankets _ one winter.

But Izuna does not consider that a good enough excuse. There had to be signs he missed, too busy with his own life and his job. Too busy adopting a cat who tolerates his presence because he provides food. Working long hours on the weekends when he had nothing better to do, fixing up the guest bedroom, taking regular trips out of the city just to get a breath or two of fresh air. He should have invited Madara. He should have  _ dragged him _ out.

When he comes back downstairs, his heart heavy and his mood soured, it is to the sight of Kurama perched on Madara’s lap, purring wildly while Madara combs his fingers through the cat’s bright orange fur. “Who’s a pretty kitty?” Madara asks, and Kurama trills at him.

No. This belies logic. “He doesn’t like  _ me, _ the person he lives with,” Izuna complains, and Madara peeks up at him, slightly startled, his shoulders bunching together. Kurama hisses at him, as if punishing him for the mistake. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But of course he loves  _ you. _ I mean everyone already does, but this is betrayal.”

“He’s a nice cat.” Madara’s posture eases as he turns his attention back to Kurama, who promptly rolls over onto his back to present his fuzzy belly for rubs. “When did you get a cat? I thought you said you hated animals and would never want to take care of one.”

“I was lonely.” He leaves it at that, not wanting to make Madara feel guilty for something that was never and could never be his fault. Not in a thousand years could it be his fault.

But Izuna has been lonely. Finding time to spend with friends is difficult when he and Tobirama run their own business, and most of the time he just never wants to go out and do anything. Lounging around the house is easy, even if he only has one grouchy beast to occasionally present himself as company when he wants something from Izuna.

Growing up, he and Madara were so close. He just never prepared himself for a life where he and Madara would lose that closeness, but he accepted it. Madara wanted to start a family, had chosen an alpha for his mate, and moved in with him. It was just life now.

Not anymore, though. “He really does like you. At least he’s not eating your hair.”

“Does he try to eat yours?” Madara looks alarmed at the prospect, and Izuna chuckles.

“Sometimes when I’m asleep and he wants me up early so he can eat breakfast an hour before he’s supposed to have it.” Izuna crosses the room to sit down on the couch arm next to Madara, folding one leg over the other as he watches Kurama’s little cat paws curl as he purrs under Madara’s gentle touch. “He’s a brat. I’ve raised him horribly.”

Madara shakes his head. “Cats just have big personalities. You’ve done a good job.”

“You think so?” The compliment makes Izuna preen. At least Kurama eats plenty, though Izuna is pretty sure he might be a little on the heavy side. “Then I’ll trust your judgment.”

Kurama eventually decides he has had enough being petted and rolls back over onto his feet, giving Madara’s fingers an affectionate lick before he leaps down and trots off into the kitchen. Kitchen, right. Soup. Izuna needs to make sure Madara eats before he takes any of the pain medicine. Instructions specifically said not to take it on an empty stomach or it might make him sick, and Izuna is not going to let him end up back in the hospital.

He leans down, butting Madara’s shoulder with his forehead. “Hungry, Nii-san?”

“Mm. I could eat.” Madara looks up at him, the softness in his eyes slowly leeching away, putting Izuna on guard. “I… You didn’t have to buy me anything. I could have eaten here.”

“I know that, but I wanted to do it.” Izuna stands and offers Madara his hands, helping him up off of the couch as he laces their fingers together. “Sometimes, I’m just going to want to do nice things for you, okay? You don’t have to thank me, and you don’t have to remind me I don’t have to do the nice things. I just like to do them.”

Madara looks uncertain but nods, and Izuna squeezes his hands before letting them go. “I… Would you mind if I took a bath after I eat, then? I’m still sore.”

Izuna can only imagine. “Of course! I have a great tub. You’re going to love it.”

He skirts around the coffee table and skids to a stop on the hardwood floor when he watches the careful way Madara walks. A low growl reverberates in his chest that he manages to keep inside of him, not wanting to startle Madara more than he already is. The bruising, he reminds himself, the results of things he does not want to think about. If Madara’s heat cycle has been mostly regular, then he must have just finished it, as well.

Bruised and battered during his  _ heat. _ Maybe prison will not keep Hashirama safe.

He gives himself a shake and leads Madara into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for him. Right now, Izuna needs to take care of him. “I bought… A few different varieties.”

“Did y— Izuna.” Madara stops when he reaches the table, eyeing the bags with confusion before he looks to Izuna. “Otouto, why did you buy so much? You didn’t  _ need _ to.”

He takes Madara’s hand, helping him sit down in the chair before pushing it back under the table. “Because I wanted to. Because you should have nice things, and you should have someone who does nice things for you right now. Okay? Don’t question it.”

“Okay.” Madara ducks his head, and Izuna frowns, his hand instinctively slipping under Madara’s hair for the nape of his neck. The way his spine goes rigid has Izuna backing off.

He wets his lips, not sure he should push it right now, then sidling up closer to his brother and kissing the top of his head. “Why does that scare you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“It’s tender. Ah… Alpha used to, he…” Madara trails off, and Izuna’s blood boils at hearing the word  _ Alpha _ instead of Hashirama’s name. “He used to p-pull the hair there.”

Of course he did. Of fucking  _ course _ he did, alighting the sensitive nerves that when touched and caressed, can help an alpha or omega relax. “I’m sorry, Nii-san.”

Madara shakes his head, but Izuna cups his chin, drawing his brother’s head to rest against his ribs as he combs his fingers through the ends of Madara’s hair. “It’s fine—”

“No. And you don’t have to call him that anymore if you don’t want to. He’s not here, and he’s never going to be anywhere near you ever again.” Izuna keeps his voice low, cajoling as he watches Madara’s eyelashes flutter, as every gentle touch slowly eases the tension out of his body. “No one is going to punish you or hurt you. And I’m going to protect you.”

He gives Madara a gentle hug and nudges one of the bags closer to him, pleased when Madara starts rifling through them to find something to eat. It gives him time to retreat to the other side of the kitchen and to pick out a pair of spoons for them.

“Want something to drink?” he calls over his shoulder. “Lots of cold things, or I can make you tea if you want. I just don’t know if you want something hot with hot soup.”

“Tea is fine,” Madara says, and Izuna sets about making his favorite jasmine tea.

Being the only alpha in his immediate family and close circle of friends means that Izuna has odds and ends tucked away into his cabinets that are not for him. Jasmine tea is one of those, as it is Madara’s favorite, and he sets the water to heat on the stove as he brings Madara back a spoon to eat with. Kurama seems to have sprawled across a chair on the far side of the table, which is fine. Company for lunch.

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Madara starts, dipping his spoon into the bowl of fish stew he has chosen, “but thank you for letting me stay here, Izuna.”

“Don’t thank me for that. I like it when you’re here.” Izuna scoffs softly at him. The sound is fond. He could never mean anything cruel or huffy with Madara.

Dark eyes meet his across the table before Madara looks back down at his stew, stirring it idly but not taking a bite. Izuna tries not to squirm in his seat. Does he not want it? Is something wrong with it? Maybe Izuna should make— “I’m sorry for all the excuses. I really wanted to see you. I wanted to see you more than anyone else.”

“Was…  _ He _ the one who…” Izuna flinches when Madara nods, letting his spoon settle against the side of the bowl. “Well, that doesn’t matter now. We can make up for all that time.”

Madara frowns at him. “Yes, it does matter. You’ve grown up so much since the last time I saw you. I… I wish I’d done something. Just, anything to get to see you again.”

Izuna’s heart hurts. He reaches for Madara, touches his cheek. “You did your best just to survive, and I’m so proud of you. I’d never ask you to do more than that, Nii-san.”

“I wanted to see you so bad.” Madara leans into his touch, his eyes starting to mist with tears. Izuna is up out of his chair immediately, soup forgotten, so he can wrap his brother in his arms once more. “I missed you so much, but he wouldn’t… He never let me  _ leave. _ ”

All those excuses, all those trips… Izuna is nauseated thinking about Madara texting him those lies, or saying them over the phone, when he thinks of Hashirama nearby directing him to do so. “You left on your own, though. You found a way to get away from him, and that makes you so strong. And I’m never letting him come near you again.”

Let Hashirama  _ try. _ Izuna will not send him to the hospital. He’ll put him in the ground.

“Otouto.” Madara twists around toward him and Izuna presses closer to him, crooning softly to settle his upset brother. Nothing needs to be said. No apologies, no excuses.

He just wants Madara to understand that Izuna does not need to forgive him, that there is nothing to forgive. “I’m here. And I love you so much. I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you for anything, anyway. I just want to help you get better. And you can stay here for as long as you want, and we can make up for all that time together.”

The small wave of sadness seems to pass, Madara nodding against his neck before leaning back and picking up his soup to eat. Izuna kisses him on the head and retrieves the hot water, pouring them both a cup and adding tea bags before bringing them back to the table. It does his heart good to see Madara eating like he should be.

Through gentle insistence, he presses another bowl of fish stew into Madara’s hands and stores the rest for later. He hardly tastes his own soup, too worried about his brother, too relieved that he is here and safe to expend energy to taste food. It soothes the slight edge of hunger in his stomach. His lunch break would have been twenty minutes ago.

Best to check on Tobirama. Izuna pulls his phone out.  _ Everything going fine at the office? _

_ Yes. Nothing was damaged. I’ll be finishing up and heading home a little early. _ Which is fair, Izuna thinks. His brother showed up at the office and probably frightened him.  _ You can thank me for the intelligent decision to install a lockdown protocol at your leisure. _

Sighing, Izuna rolls his eyes, setting his spoon down.  _ Thank you, Tobirama. _

_ You’re welcome. _ The smugness is there in every word. Izuna can taste it.

He does not tell Madara what happened because there is no use worrying him. The office has a lockdown protocol because Tobirama wanted one. Even with his impressive physique, a beta is not typically stronger than an alpha, and he wanted a failsafe protection.

So they have a lockdown protocol. Extra locks and security built into the office doors along with buttons at their desks that will call for the police when pressed. Izuna doubts he would ever need it, more likely to challenge anyone who comes near them rather than call for help. But in this case, he can barely blame Tobirama. Hashirama is still his brother, and Izuna knows how physically large and strong the bastard is. Tobirama stood no chance.

When Madara finishes his stew and tea, Izuna leads him upstairs to his master bathroom, which has the largest and most luxurious tub in the house. He sprung for it because he thought he deserved it, though he only usually finds time to laze in it on his days off.

“I just have my soap around, but you can use it.” He tries not to dance from foot to foot, anxious that Madara will be comfortable here, will be fine with that. After the day he has had, Madara deserves… Everything. The world. And the stars, too, for that matter.

“That’s fine. Thank you, Izuna.” Madara leans against him for a brief moment, and Izuna smiles and rumbles softly at him, rubbing his hand up and down his brother’s back.

“Your medicine has a side effect that it might make you tired, so maybe after the bath?” Izuna asks, and Madara nods, tugging at the bottom of his sweatshirt. He must be ready to take it off. “You know how to turn on hot water. Um… Oh, you do have some clothes here you’ve left that I kept for you. Did you want just pajamas or a yukata to sleep in?”

“A yukata would be preferable.” Madara clears his throat, fidgeting with his sweatshirt again, and Izuna forces himself to remain calm. “Would you mind helping me wash my hair? It’s an ordeal and I’m just… Very tired. It’s been a long day.”

Again, Izuna remembers his heat cycle. If it did just end, Madara would be exhausted. And that is not counting the hospital visit and the trip home. “Of course. I’d be happy to help.”

“Thank you.” Madara tilts his head, his lips whispering gently against Izuna’s temple before he turns his attention to the bathtub. “I’ll call you when I need your assistance.”

Izuna leaves him in peace, striding across his room to the closet where he has Madara’s sapre clothing hanging, as well as the drawer where some of it is tucked away. Underwear… Maybe not underwear, actually. Just the yukata. He needs the space to heal.

Remembering how Madara tucked up close to his scent glands in the hospital, Izuna brushes the collar of the yukata under his chin to scent it faintly, then drapes it over the dresser. With nothing else to do, he sits on the edge of his bed and waits for Madara to call for him, trying to ease the knot of tension in his stomach.

Everything is going to be okay. Madara is home, and Izuna is taking care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, i was so shocked when i logged in to update and saw this has over 200 hits. thank you guys so much for taking the chance just to sit down and read this story. and thank you to Littwink and CreativeSweets for leaving me comments! it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside to get to sit down and respond to them.
> 
> also i hope everyone enjoys the fluffy little cameo in this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

He should not touch Izuna’s things, but Madara finds an elastic band and a few stray bobby pins lying on the side of the tub so he can pin his hair up and out of the way. Alpha used to tell him that he had entirely too much hair. Caring for it was difficult, and the ever-looming threat of him simply cutting it off despite Madara’s wishes was present. So many threats were always present, held high over Madara’s head. Held so high that should any of them crash down upon him, it would only hurt him more.

The thought makes him shiver as he steps out of the sweatpants from the hospital, wincing at how they felt against his tender skin. Alpha—  _ No. _ He stops himself, wadding the fabric up in his hands, trembling at the force of the interjection. No. He is not Alpha anymore.

Izuna promised that he could never get close again, promised to keep him safe, and Madara believes him. When Izuna puts his mind to something, neither heaven nor hell can stop him.

Madara sits on the edge of the tub, spreading his legs and examining the bruising he can see, mapping it out with unsure fingers. Sex was always rough because his needs were never met, his body used for another’s pleasure and satisfaction while he willed the act to end as soon as possible. Even when he was in heat, even when his body was wired to want it so badly he cried for it, Madara never wanted… Never wanted  _ Hashirama _ to touch him.

Bath, and then medicine. The pain will ease enough for him to be able to sleep.

Warm, silky water wraps around his body as he lowers himself into the tub, and he hopes Izuna will not be displeased with him for adding some soap to the water. He’d always liked bubble baths before and after his heats, something he has been denied the last few years.

_ Why would Izuna mind? _ He has to remind himself that Izuna wants him to be happy.

His eyes slip shut as he slips down into the water, the back of his head resting against the sloped side of the tub he thinks must have been fashioned for just this purpose. It makes him trill softly in happiness to know Izuna has done so well for himself that he can afford such a luxury, but it also makes something in his stomach hurt.

He missed so much of Izuna becoming the man he is today. He wishes he could have seen it for himself. Wishes he could have watched his brother come into his own.

_ Izuna is busy, you know. He and Tobira started up their own business, and they have so much on their plates right now. Are you sure you want to go bother him like that? He’s living his own life now. How rude would it be to simply barge back into it? _

Madara’s stomach churns. He whines wordlessly at nothing, pulling his knees up to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut. Don’t think about him or what he said. If Izuna was upset with him being here, then he wouldn’t have let Madara come. He even smells happy to have—

_ “Nii-san?” _ Izuna’s voice is muffled on the other side of the bathroom door, though Madara hears him clearly enough.  _ “I thought I heard you calling. Are you all right?” _

Izuna heard him call, and Izuna came to check on him. Just like a proper alpha should.

Warmth replaces the anxiety clawing in Madara’s gut, easing him back into the water as he tilts his head toward the door. Warmth that he knows is love for his younger brother. “I’m fine,” he calls back. “Just enjoying the water. I’ll call for you properly when I need you.”

_ “All right. Just let me know.” _ Izuna retreats, and Madara smiles and closes his eyes.

The heat of the bath soothes the ache in his thighs and hips, the soreness in his groin and the insides of his thighs. He sighs in pleasure and allows himself to drift for a moment, imagining happier times where he and Izuna would see each other as much as they wanted, where they could share their lives with one another as they should be able to.

Madara would have a loving mate and pups of his own, and Izuna would spoil all of them rotten. They’d come home from his house begging to have a pet of their own. And he would probably cave enough to let them adopt a puppy with high enough energy to keep up with them. That would have been how Madara wanted their lives to work out.

Maybe later. Maybe after he stops cringing and flinching and trying to submit when Izuna is the one speaking to him. Izuna who has never hurt him, never even scared him.

He takes his time washing, resisting the urge to scrub certain parts of his skin raw, to wash Alpha’s— To wash  _ Hashirama’s _ — touch from his body. Doing it before has never made him feel better. All it does is leave him aching and sometimes bloody, in more pain than he was before the bath. He needs to learn how to be gentle with himself again.

And he is especially careful when he wipes between his legs. He showered after the end of his heat, clawed at his own insides to get everything out of him. Trying to get pregnant and desperate not to be because he knows his children would never be safe.

After everything is clean, he tilts his head, hesitating for a moment. No, Izuna is fine with him calling out to him. Izuna is probably waiting not far away from the door.

It takes effort to chirp out to him, the sound echoing in the bathroom. And Izuna is there in an instant, cracking the door open before he lets himself inside, closing it behind him with a soft  _ click. _ He really is every bit of the man every alpha aspires to be.

“Ready for me to wash your hair?” Izuna asks, coming to stand next to the tub. “Ah, I’m glad you found a way to pin it up. I should have offered you something myself.”

“It’s all right. You’re not mad at me for borrowing them?” He has to ask. He can break himself of asking, he can, but right now he needs to ask. “I hope it’s all right.”

Izuna nods, hooking his foot around  _ something _ and dragging it across the tiles— A small step-stool, Madara realizes, twisting around to look. He sits down on it, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Absolutely. You can use anything of mine that you want to use.”

“Thank you.” He makes an effort to remain still when Izuna’s fingers slip up until his hair, but Izuna is gentle, letting his hair down without even tugging on the nape of his neck.

“Of course.” Izuna does not tell him to stop saying  _ thank you, _ which is a relief because of how hard it is to stop. Madara knows Izuna would never be angry with him, but disobeying an alpha is a punishable offense ingrained into him ever since Hashirama marked him.

When they were younger and Madara first grew out his hair, Izuna helped him with it often. It came in voluminous and thick in a way that Izuna’s sleeker hair is not, so washing it and conditioning it became a challenge. Of course, Izuna was just as eager to help then as he seems to be now, humming softly to himself as he wets Madara’s hair down, tipping his head back so that the water laps against his forehead.

He does not tip Madara’s head any farther back than that. He wouldn’t. He would never—

“Hey.” Izuna touches his face, damp fingers skimming along his jaw, drawing a soft answering noise before Madara can control it. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

Madara nips his fingers, and Izuna laughs and leans down to kiss him on the nose.

Because it’s been so long, Madara has almost forgotten how gentle Izuna is with his hair, taking his time to wash it thoroughly. He submerges his hands in the dark strands, his touch gentle enough that Madara remains calm every time his hands come anywhere near his nape. Even when Izuna’s hands slide up the back of his scalp, he does not tense.

Izuna rumbles down at him when he stays relaxed for him, a sound that means his alpha little brother is pleased with him. “You’re doing so good staying calm for me.”

“I know you’ll take care of me.” And that Izuna would never hurt him. It’s easy to believe right now, when Izuna is touching him with such care. When Izuna is soothing him and listening to him, taking the time to make sure Madara is comfortable with him.

It takes time to wash the shampoo from his hair and to repeat the process with condition, but Izuna is patient with him. By the time he finishes, a small and tentative purr has built up in Madara’s throat. He can’t remember having purred properly in years.

“Thank you for letting me help you, Nii-san.” Izuna gathers Madara’s hair up in his hands, wringing out the excess moisture before wrapping it up in a towel for him. Far too caring and considerate. Madara doesn’t think there’s an omega worthy of him. “Go ahead and finish your bath, and then I can help you dry your hair before you lay down.”

There is a towel left for him on the counter alongside the yukata he must have left on one of his prior visits, and Izuna gives him peace again. Madara is done with bathing and drains the water, climbing out to dry himself off. He pauses in front of the wide bathroom mirror, fingers brushing over the bruises on his throat, his chest, his hips.

He sets the damp towel aside and dons his yukata, turning his gaze away.  _ Those will go away, _ he tells himself, unwilling to look at his face. At the mark he knows is there.

Izuna comes back into the bathroom when Madara allows him to, assisting him with drying his hair, brushing all the tangles out without yanking on his scalp. Madara is purring again by the end of it, lids heavy, lulled into drowsiness by the way the bristles of the brush feel against his scalp. Such care is so rare now that it soothes him so intensely.

“Bed time, I think.” Izuna wraps his arms around Madara, nuzzling his cheek. “Come on, let me show you the guest bedroom. It’s really nice, and it’s all yours for your whole stay.”

“What if you have guests while I’m here?” Madara asks him, letting Izuna take him by the hand and lead him down the hallway. The house is so much nicer than he remembers it.

“There’s a couch,” Izuna says over his shoulder, pushing open a door and tugging Madara inside. “And if they don’t like that, then fuck ‘em. You’re more important, obviously.”

The bedroom is a nice one, painted in peaceful shades of green with a bed more than large enough to be comfortable. Izuna urges him closer to it and Madara sits down on the edge of it, running his fingers over the bedspread. It’s soft under his touch and the mattress hugs the shape of his body. How long has it been since he’s had a proper rest?

Something anxious kicks in the pit of his stomach, and he frowns. If it was up to him, he’d still be curled up safe and warm in his nest. Sleeping off that state of vulnerability and need somewhere that cocoons him and smells like him is important. He remembers the slight panic when he realized Hashirama had already torn down his heat nest.

“What is it?” Izuna lingers in front of him, then cups Madara’s chin so that their eyes must meet again. “You can tell me what you need, Nii-san. What’s missing for you?”

“I…” He bites his lip, and Izuna gently tugs it free of his teeth. “My heat cycle ended this morning. I usually… Like to nest after. I don’t know if you remember that, or…”

Izuna nods. “Of course I do. You got your first heat in high school, I was around during plenty of them. You want a nest? We can do that. I have plenty of pillows and blankets.”

“You’re sure?” His heart throbs with excitement, but he tries not to let it show.

“Absolutely. Any alpha worth his salt has emergency nesting supplies around.” Izuna crosses to the closet and throws the doors open, turning to Madara with a bright, beaming smile. “Here you go. Anything and everything you could want. And you can use all of it.”

He must be joking. “That would drive your water bill up when you have to wash it all.”

“You think I care? Why would I care? Who would—” Izuna stops himself, something passing across his face before he shakes his head. He walks back to Madara, tugs him up onto his feet again. “I would be happier if you nested. What I want is for you to be comfy and feeling safe, okay? So nest. And use as much as you want to.”

Madara hesitates before leaning in to kiss his brother on the cheek. “Thank you.”

Izuna gives him privacy once more while he empties out the closet, unable to ignore how happy he is to be able to do this. Madara is particular about his nests but Izuna was not kidding when he said he had plenty of supplies to share. There is only a moment of hesitation before Madara sets to working in earnest, knowing from experience just how to stack the pillows and lay the blankets for maximum security and comfort.

He makes the space big enough for two people, fisting his hand in a blanket before smoothing it out. No, he wouldn’t be upset if Madara asked that. He  _ wouldn’t _ be.

When Izuna returns, Madara has just finished his nest. His little brother carries a bottle of water in one hand and an orange bottle of medication in the other. “It says to take one, so, here you go. You can keep them in here so that they don’t get lost.”

The water is chilled and crisp on his tongue, and he swallows down the small pill easily before setting both bottles on one of the nightstands. “Izuna…” He hesitates, then sighs at himself. “Would… Are you busy? I know I must have pulled you away from work.”

“Tobirama can hold down the fort and he’ll let me know if he needs me specifically for anything, but honestly I only go into the office a couple times a week. He hates me being there, control freak.” Izuna rolls his eyes and Madara tries not to giggle, though the two of them have always disagreed with each other. “So I’m not busy. What do you want?”

Madara shifts from foot to foot before peeking up at his brother. He could ask for this so much more easily as a child. “Would you mind laying down with me for a little while?”

Izuna’s face softens as he shakes his head, though for a moment, Madara thinks he really is going to leave. “I’d be honored, Nii-san. You’ve made such a nice, cozy nest and I could definitely use a nap. Just let me change into something I can sleep in comfortably.”

He slips from the bedroom and returns a minute or so later, tugging the elastic out of his hair and dropping it on the nightstand. They climb into the nest together, and the care Izuna takes not to disturb any of it makes Madara smile. Then he hooks an arm around his little brother’s shoulders and pulls him down, covering them both in the multitude of blankets he found. Now he can be nice and warm just like he needs.

And everything smells like otouto. Everything smells like comfort and home.

“C’mere.” Izuna rolls onto his side and opens his arms. Madara leans into his embrace happily, tucking his chin down against Izuna’s shoulder and nuzzling into his hair. “Just rest, Nii-san. I’m right here to keep you safe. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Madara has nothing to say to that, so he just settles for the obvious. “I love you, Izuna.”

“I love you, too. So, so much.” Izuna squeezes him gently, tugging him a little closer.

It means too much to him to put into words that Izuna is giving him this so easily and so freely, letting him nest and taking care of him. Fleeing the house with Touka left him scared, because he didn’t know where to go or what to do. The moment Izuna stepped into the room, everything made sense. His brother was here to take care of him.

His tough, mouthy, adoring little brother who has always followed in his shadow. Who has always tried to protect Madara from the threats he perceived around them.

A soft purr rolls up from his chest, and he lets it. Curls himself into Izuna’s arms and delights in the closeness of him and the familiarity of his scent and touch. Izuna rumbles in return, rubbing his hand up and down Madara’s spine. It relaxes him further until he feels like he could melt into the nest and never want to get out of it again.

The day has been a long one, but Madara is safe now. Safe and wrapped in the arms of someone who loves him and would never let anything happen to him. He has to trust that Izuna will take care of him, and that is something he knows he can do.

For now, he just closes his eyes and relaxes into Izuna’s embrace, tucking his nose in against Izuna’s scent glands and letting himself be lulled off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think it would be nice to mix in a little of madara's pov from time to time. what do you think?
> 
> also, thank you guys so much for the support! watching the hits and kudos and comments numbers go up has made me so happy. it definitely inspires me to want to write more for you to read!


	6. Chapter 6

There is no replacement for physical touch when an omega is in heat.

Izuna learned this in high school, fourteen when Madara’s first heat came. It swept their household into a tizzy for days while their father did his best to take care of his oldest son. He and his brothers were barred from entering Madara’s bedroom unless Tajima was with them— Back when he and Madara had brothers, when their father was home often and not spiriting himself halfway around the world in denial.

He still catches himself nearly purchasing things his brothers might have liked, their favorites foods or trinkets or anything that might have caught their eye.

Back when life was normal, Tajima was called away from the house and left Izuna in charge. The second oldest, he sent his little brothers to wash up and to bed, then parked himself outside of Madara’s room to keep watch over him while he worked his way through his heat. Izuna’s first knot hadn’t popped yet, but he knew what Madara was doing behind the closed bedroom door, and he knew he needed to keep him safe in there.

Not the first time his instincts raised their head and insisted on a course of action.

He does not need to think back very hard on that night, because every detail is wound tight into his mind. The way Madara called his name softly through the door, and Izuna went to check on him despite Tajima telling him not to. Tajima wasn’t home, and if Madara needed something, Izuna was the one who had to fetch it for him.

All he wanted was contact. All he wanted was for someone to touch him, to run their fingers through his hair, to hold him close for a moment. Omegas delight in physical contact, and the most doting of alphas never seem to take their hands off their mates.

It was too dark to see anything, but he remembers the syrupy sweetness in the air when he slipped into Madara’s nest. He remembers warm, sweaty skin under his hands, the way Madara nuzzled up against his throat and whined. Too young for Tajima to want an alpha anywhere near him, but there were toys for that. There were toys specifically made to knot inside of an omega and satisfy the urges, but nothing for the need for contact.

Izuna wakes first, the sky outside the same gunmetal grey that tells him he must have napped for no more than an hour or two before he turns his attention to Madara. Long inky lashes rest on the sharp curves of his cheekbones, full lips parted around slow, easy breaths. He is finally relaxed, finally free of the panic and tension and fear.

“Oh, Nii-san.” Izuna keeps his words a soft murmur, combing his fingers through the tousled hair spilling onto Madara’s forehead. He tucks it back, pressing a kiss against his warm skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here for you like I was back then.”

At such a young age, he was a better brother and a better alpha than he is now.

Madara shifts slightly in the nest, curling himself closer to Izuna’s touch, his voice. Omega instincts drawing him closer even in his sleep, closer to the alpha watching over him and protecting him. He sighs, and Izuna smiles and kisses his forehead once more.

His beautiful, precious brother that he would have died for. That he nearly  _ did _ die for, but… Well. That was a long time ago, and the two of them are different people now.

A soft purr vibrates in the air between them, and Izuna relishes the sound as he pets his brother’s hair. He wonders when the last time Madara purred was even as he resolves to do everything to keep him happy. Nothing in this world is better than a happy omega.

The fingers curled loosely against his back flex before spreading between his shoulder blades, as if Madara thinks he’s going somewhere. As if Izuna would ever want to.

“I’m here.” He brushes his fingers along Madara’s cheekbone, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips. All beautiful, lovely lines. His brother truly is a work of art.

“Alpha…” Madara’s voice is an almost-whisper, and Izuna stills, concerned he might have woken him. When he continues to lie still, his breathing unchanged, he realizes Madara is still asleep, and his heart gives a small pang. Is he dreaming about Hashirama?

Izuna hopes not. He could imagine that dream rapidly becoming a nightmare.

“Omega,” he murmurs back, cupping Madara’s cheek, bringing their foreheads together in a gentle press of affection. “I’m here. Sleep for me. I’ll watch over you.”

Just because it’s been years since he and Madara last slept in the same place, that doesn’t mean Izuna has forgotten Madara talks in his sleep occasionally. He wonders if he did with Hashirama. He wonders if Madara was punished for that and blindly hopes not, though he knows that he likely was. What did the bastard want? Madara is already perfect.

The hand in the small of his back tightens its grip on him as well, and Izuna allows himself to be drawn closer to his brother. He tangles their legs together beneath the blankets, rumbling softly in his throat. The sound will likely reach Madara through the haze of sleep, tugging at his instincts, comforting him and letting him know that Izuna is happy.

When Madara sighs and goes heavy and warm in his arms, Izuna counts his blessings and tucks his face into his brother’s hair, letting himself doze while Madara sleeps.

The sky outside darkens minutely, and it must be evening by the time Madara stirs in his arms, yawning against his throat. It tickles Izuna’s skin, and he chuckles softly.

“Mm?” Madara leans back to look at him, long lashes fluttering before awareness comes back into his vision. Instead of smiling, his lips pull down into a frown. “Izuna?”

“Who were you expecting?” Izuna raises an eyebrow, too relaxed and warm to move.

Madara stares at him for a long moment, a bevy of emotions flickering through his eyes before he slowly takes his arms back and frees his legs. Every movement is slow and pronounced, like he thinks any shift in his body that Izuna is not expecting will be met with violence. Christ, did it used to be? What did Hashirama  _ do _ to his brother?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but the hunted expression in Madara’s eyes does not leave.

“Where’s…” Madara swallows hard, turns away from him, a skittery head movement that has Izuna slowly pushing himself up. “Where is he? I know he has to be somewhere.”

Izuna’s stomach flips slightly, but he forces himself to straighten his shoulders. “He’s in jail right now. He came to the office to ask after you, and Tobirama initiated lockdown and called the police to come pick him up. The elevator locks, too. He couldn’t have left.”

“Jail…” Madara trails off, his hands resting in his lap as he stares down at them. His face is blank. It makes Izuna’s chest hurt. “For how long? How long until he comes back?”

He must be in shock right now. So much as been going right the last few hours that it must be jarring to him. “He’s not going to be able to come back, Madara. He abused you so badly that you rejected the mark, which is already extreme. The hospital examination yielded a lot of evidence as well. No one is going to just let him out. And… I have lawyers.”

Izuna has  _ great _ lawyers, actually, courtesy of Tobirama. He remembers having to pore over their work histories, and one of them is a former defense attorney who now represents abused omegas for free. A way to clear the conscience after helping too many guilty people slide, Izuna assumes, though far be it from him to know anything.

“He’s… Not coming back?” Madara glances up at him, though his eyes are still so empty.

“Never.” Izuna cups his face, leaning over to press their foreheads together again. “He’s never going to come back. And even if he does, I’ll keep him away from you. Restraining order, bodyguards, the whole nine yards. Whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

The tears come slowly, hesitantly, wetting Madara’s beautiful dark eyes before he squeezes them shut, forcing them to roll down his cheeks. Izuna cups his face, brushing the tears away, letting him have this moment. All he can do is be the supportive brother that Madara needs right now, the alpha to shield him and protect him.

“It’s really over?” Madara sniffles softly and Izuna nods, crooning to him. He doesn’t dare do the idiotic thing so many people do, telling Madara to stop crying. That there’s no reason to cry. Madara needs to let it all out. “He’s not coming back. He’s really not coming back. I’m…” He hiccups, and Izuna opens his arms, biting back a squeak when Madara climbs right up into his lap, clinging to him with all four limbs like he thinks Izuna will evaporate.

But he lets him. He wraps his arms around Madara and holds him, running his fingers over the yukata, feeling Madara’s back shudder with his cries. Every small, hurt sound he makes rips at something in Izuna’s gut, urging him to take care of his brother. He’s doing the best he can. Idiotic alpha instincts won’t be happy unless he rips out Hashirama’s throat with his bare teeth, but they live in civilization now. He can’t be behaving like that.

Besides, he would definitely get caught, and then Madara would be alone.

He tumbles them back into the nest, rolling Madara beneath him and planting soft little kisses on his scrunched-up face until his whimpers shift slowly into giggles. His tears are warm and salty on Izuna’s lips, but Izuna doesn’t mind. He just kisses Madara’s forehead and nose and cheeks and chin until he’s squirming and laughing softly beneath him.

“You’re safe now.” Izuna slides his hands up into Madara’s hair, and he wonders if Madara would let him brush it again, smooth all the tangles out from their nap. “You’re free. He’s never going to put his hands on you again. You get to stay here with me, if you want to—”

“Of course I want to.” Madara surges up against him, hugging him so tight that Izuna sees stars for a moment. He isn’t sure if it’s the sharp pain in his ribs or the sudden happiness. “I missed you so much, Zuna. I don’t ever want to go without seeing you again.”

Izuna swallows back a whine, tilting his head, pressing his face into Madara’s hair. “I don’t want to go without seeing you, either. I missed you, and I don’t ever want to miss you.”

Madara lays back down beneath him, and Izuna marvels that he trusts him enough to be here above him, to have him caged in his arms and legs like this. “Well, with the way  _ you _ get, you’d have to just move me in permanently to never miss me again.”

“That could be arranged,” Izuna muses, and Madara laughs and pushes at his chest.

His face shifts into something somber and sad, and Izuna frowns. He wants to chase that expression away from his brother’s face, but he knows it will take time. “Most of my belongings are still at his house. I’d have to go there to pick them up. I don’t…”

He doesn’t want to go. Izuna can hardly blame him, considering what he went through in that house. “If you make me a list and tell me where the spare key is, I’ll get them.”

“You don’t have to drop everything for me, you know.” This look, Izuna knows well: guilt. He thinks he’s been carrying it around in his heart for too many years. “I can do it. I can.”

“Believe me, Nii-san, nobody knows how strong you are better than I do. I wouldn’t have survived half of what you have.” Izuna curls down against him, nosing his cheek until Madara relaxes beneath him. “But you don’t have to prove to me that you can do it.”

Madara swallows so hard that Izuna hears his throat click. “I know that. But I have to prove it to myself. And they’re my things. I want to be the one who gets them.”

“Do you want me to go with you, at least? For moral support?” Izuna asks, and smiles when Madara nods, reaching for him, hands smoothing along his back. “All right. We can go tomorrow morning, if you want, since the drive is so long. Or we can just go now.”

“The sooner, the better. I’ll make myself anxious and sick over it if we wait to do it.” Madara whines and twists under him, and Izuna leans back to watch him bury his face in his own hands with a groan. It’s so unlike him to be this full of self-doubt.

_ With time, _ Izuna thinks, gently pressing a kiss to Madara’s knuckles. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m overthinking everything. It shouldn’t have to be this hard. I know you wouldn’t lie to me, so he’s definitely in jail. And I  _ know _ they wouldn’t just let him out.” Madara drops his hands, and Izuna kisses him on the nose because he’s close enough to do so. “But there’s a part of me that’s afraid I’m going to walk through that front door and he’ll be there. And he’ll drag me in and make you leave and I’ll never get to see you again.”

Izuna isn’t surprised to hear this. Of course these paranoid fears are clinging to him because of the trauma. It may take  _ years _ before he finds his way through the darkness, but Izuna is here, at least, to hold his hand and offer a flashlight. “Don’t blame yourself for that. And besides, no one is going to force me to leave you. Never.”

If it’s in self-defense, then Izuna can probably get away with making use of his teeth.

“You’re a good brother.” Madara pulls Izuna flush against him, and Izuna smiles, happy to curl himself around Madara. Happy to make him feel safe and protected. “And a good alpha. When the hell are you going to settle down and start your own family, Izuna?”

“There’s no omega who’s ever appealed to me. I think I like living the bachelor lifestyle. Besides, when would I ever have time for dating when I have that asshole cat living with me?” It still defies logic that Kurama likes anyone, and Izuna is certain he must have hallucinated that moment. Kurama bit him the first time they ever met one another.

“I suppose that is a pretty big commitment.” Madara pushes at his shoulders and Izuna climbs off of him, skimming a hand down Madara’s back when his brother sits up. “Well, I guess… Let’s get dressed and go. Rip the band-aid off so it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Izuna nods, slipping his hand over Madara’s under the blankets. “And I’ll be there for you.”

They only separate long enough to get dressed, with Izuna digging out more of Madara’s clothes from his closet. Comfortable pants that won’t exacerbate his injuries, a long-sleeved shirt and a sweater to chase away the chill from the rain. They at least wear roughly the same size in shoes, so Izuna just lends him a pair without a second thought.

It should be easy, except Kurama comes slinking into the room just as Izuna is zipping up his jacket and whines. He rubs himself around Madara’s legs and cries, as if he suspects Izuna is going to spirit him away and never bring him back. What the fuck is with him?

“What the fuck is with you?” He stretches a hand down to pick Kurama up by his scruff and yelps when Kurama turns his head and neatly bites him on the forearm. “Hey!”

“Be nice, Izuna,” Madara says, as if Kurama is his cat. He bends down and picks Kurama up, and the cat goes without a fight. In fact, he purrs, rubbing his head up under Madara’s chin while Madara combs his fingers through his fur. He is literally the worst animal alive.

Izuna gently takes him out of Madara’s arms, setting him back down on the floor and trying to shoo him away. “Go! We’re going on a car ride, and that means you have to stay here.”

Kurama hisses at him and skitters around him entirely, curling up around Madara’s leg with an appreciative meow. Izuna is ready to physically haul him out of the room and lock him up somewhere until they come back, but Madara picks him up again. And the softness in his eyes when Kurama nuzzles into his hand and gives his palm a few rough licks is hard to deny. They need to go somewhere stressful. Maybe the cat should come with them.

“All right.” Izuna retrieves his leash from the coat rack, dodging his needle-sharp teeth to slide it over his head and letting Madara have the leash. “Just in case he tries to dart off when we get out of the car. You want to take him with you, don’t you? I can tell.”

“He’s going to get fur all over your car,” Madara protests, but he doesn’t protest hard.

Izuna is going to be bullied into submission over this cat, and he knows it. “He’s already gotten fur all over my car when I have to take him to the vet. He can come. It’s fine.”

Kurama looks at him like he knows he’s won, but Izuna refuses to make eye contact with the little demon as he escorts Madara out to the car. If Kurama’s presence will help to ground him and keep him calm, then Izuna will vaccum his car out like an adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for taking the time to check this fic out! watching the numbers go up is such a bright spot in my day.
> 
> i think it will take time not only for madara to settle into the idea that he is, in fact, safe from hashirama, but it will take time for izuna to live down the guilt of not being there for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Izuna has only been to the house where Hashirama and Madara used to live together a few times. He came for the housewarming party, but he and Tobirama started their business soon after and they were wrapped up in that so totally he barely ate or slept, much less made time to come check on his brother. There was a stretch of about ten days where he saw and spoke to no one but Tobirama, and he thinks Tobirama went through the same process as the two of them forced themselves to work together.

The irony is not lost on him. He and Tobirama have been perfecting and marketing their product— a device meant to register the distress level of an omega and to call for aid once it reaches a certain point— while Madara suffered. They had time to install a security system to deal with alphas who might storm their office in offense at their abused mate being able to call for help while Madara was beaten and bloodied and bruised.

His knuckles are white on the steering wheel as he peers up at the house, and it takes effort to release it as he turns to glance at Madara. “So, what all are we picking up?”

“Everything that matters.” Madara climbs out of the car before Izuna can say anything else, but he doesn’t fault him for that. He just wants to get inside and then go home.

Izuna follows after him, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveys the neighborhood and wonders if any of these people might have heard or seen something strange. He turns around just to see Madara fishing a key out from under one of the chairs on the porch, shoving it into the lock so hard Izuna thinks he might be trying to break it off.

Kurama is curled up in Madara’s free arm, big fluffy front paws balanced on his shoulder as he peers back at Izuna as if to say  _ nya nya, I like him and treat him with respect and don’t try to eat his hair. What are you going to do about it, idiot? _

“Here, Kurama, be good, okay?” Madara sets the cat on the floor, smoothing a hand down his back before turning to gesture for Izuna to come inside after him.

It strikes him as soon as he steps into the house that something is wrong, the scent not quite right as his nose twitches and wrinkles. The smell is fake, incredibly artificial, as if Hashirama did his best to hide Madara’s steadily souring scent for as long as possible so no one would know what was happening. He probably did. Izuna wonders if he and Tobirama need to plan around that possibility and makes a mental note to talk to him about it.

Kurama pads patiently after Madara, seemingly unbothered being on a leash even though Izuna has failed every single time he tries to get him to walk on one.

“What all are we here to get?” he calls after Madara, hurrying to catch up to him. The tense set of Madara’s shoulders has him nervous, but there is little he can do to make him feel comfortable and safe right now. He spent years of his life in pain here.

“Just follow after me and I’ll hand you what you can take to the car,” Madara says, and Izuna nods, obediently trailing after him, skin prickling at the thought of being in another alpha’s den even though he knows Hashirama is nowhere to be found.

There are collapsed cardboard boxes stacked against one wall in the pantry, and Madara folds them and sets them on the kitchen table before venturing through the house once more. The entire space feels too clean to be real, but that may be because Izuna has trouble picking up after himself even though he’s an adult with a nice house and a job.

They find Madara’s laptop in a drawer in Hashirama’s office along with the charger; Izuna does not ask why he wasn’t allowed to use it. He just grinds his jaw and deposits it in its own box, along with a few other cords and a handful of flash drives that he recognizes. He’s the one who finds Madara’s cell phone squirreled away in a different drawer, and it makes his stomach churn in displeasure. He hadn’t even noticed Madara didn’t have it.

“So that’s where he was keeping it.” Madara sighs and shakes his head, already turning his back on Izuna, who presses the phone against his chest. “Put it with my computer. I’m going to have to see about taking it off of his phone plan and getting another one.”

“Think there might be a discount if you add it to my plan,” Izuna says softly.

Madara nods but does not look at him, and Izuna digs out the charger and deposits both of those in with the laptop. He does not think about winding the charging cable around Hashirama’s throat until it bites into the skin. He doesn’t. He can handle this.

It takes an hour digging through the office to find all of Madara’s personal paperwork, everything from his birth certificate to his driver’s license. Everything important is filed away as if he isn’t to touch it, and it makes Izuna seethe with rage as he neatly packs it all away and carries it out to the car to deposit in the trunk. Hashirama is lucky to be in jail where Izuna can’t get to him. Lucky to be safe in such a place.

They finish with the office and sweep through the rest of the house. There are books and a few things here and there, but it seems like most of the possessions in the house belong to Hashirama himself. Izuna thought Madara had more with him when he left home, but he can easily imagine Hashirama having thrown all of it out. Controlling son of a bitch.

He excuses himself to the bathroom for a moment, splashing his face with cold water to help calm himself down. Being in another alpha’s den is upsetting, but more so when he can smell the stink of his brother’s pain and fear stale but still heavy on the air.

His hand brushes something on the counter, and he blinks down at it for a moment. A pregnancy test, negative. So Hashirama was trying to get his brother pregnant.

Izuna sweeps it off into the trashcan and does not think about screaming his throat raw and bloody. He dries his face off with a towel and leaves the bathroom behind.

Madara is in the bedroom when Izuna finds him, standing in front of the closet with one hand raised to his nose, his gaze blank but dark. Izuna cocks his head, not sure what to say to him, not sure what he’s thinking right now. Why he isn’t packing away his clothes—

“Everything smells like him,” Madara says, as if Izuna did ask him. “ _ Everything _ .”

“Oh.” Izuna rubs his hands on his jeans, stepping around his cat and narrowly avoiding a paw swiping at his shin. “Nii-san, you don’t… Have to take them with you. We can get you new clothes if you want. Ones that aren’t going to smell like him?”

Madara’s fingers brush the sleeve of a shirt Izuna has never seen on him before. He continues as though Izuna said nothing. “I don’t understand why he has to be  _ everywhere _ in my fucking life. I can’t even look at these clothes without remembering wearing them when he was touching me, when he was  _ hurting _ me. And I don’t… I don’t deserve that.”

His voice is whisper-soft and broken, and Izuna presses his lips together, not sure what to say. Not sure anything he could come up with will ever make this situation right.

“Fuck.” Madara’s breath hitches as he splays his hand over his face, his shoulders jerking with the barely held-in sob. “Fuck, I hate him so much. I  _ hate _ him for what he did to me.”

“You should,” Izuna murmurs. He stretches out a hand to brush Madara’s shoulder—

And yelps when Madara jerks away from him, a vicious snarl ripping through his teeth. Izuna stumbles back, hands raised and palms out, ignoring the way Kurama hisses at his feet. He scared Madara. Shouldn’t have touched him when he was clearly asking for a moment to process. How much more of this can Izuna possibly screw up before he can find a way to help his brother that doesn’t end with Madara upset with him?

The back of his neck prickles at the sight of Madara’s bared teeth and his wild eyes, but he doesn’t dare speak. Does not dare move, lest he trigger more protective omega instinct. And he wonders belatedly if Madara ever responded to Hashirama like this, or if he can only respond to Izuna startling him. If Hashirama would have hurt him for daring.

Slowly, Madara deflates. His eyes widen as he slaps a hand across his mouth, and Izuna’s heart aches when his brother’s eyes glimmer with unshed tears. “Zuna, I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was my fault.” Izuna takes a tentative step closer to him, wincing when Madara flinches away from him. “Nii-san, I won’t hurt you. It’s me. It’s just me.”

“Please.” Madara’s entire body trembles as the fight slowly bleeds out of him, and something in Izuna’s gut twists and growls at the sight of him. He knows another alpha did this to Madara. Instinct demands he find that alpha and punish him. “Please don’t be mad at me, Izuna, I didn’t mean to do it. I won’t do it again. I’m so sorry. Pl-please.”

“I’m not—” Izuna starts, but the words die on his tongue a moment later.

He hardly ever sees an omega reduced to what Madara does, hunching in and falling to his knees at Izuna’s feet. The soft bump of Madara’s forehead against his hip and the soft, desperate little croon of apology breaks something inside of him. His hand is shaking as he combs it through Madara’s hair. It’s too easy to imagine this exact scenario in this bedroom, Madara begging Hashirama not to hurt him, trying to placate him like this.

For instinctual responses. For not doing what he wanted. For resisting Hashirama’s attempts to beat him down and break him and mold him into what he wanted him to be.

“Alpha, I’m sorry.” Madara reaches for his free hand, drags it in close and rubs his cheek against Izuna’s knuckles. “Please, I won’t do it again. I’ll be good, Alpha, please.”

Izuna squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back. He wasn’t ready for this, but he has to be the one who helps Madara. He can’t tolerate anyone else being here when Madara is scared and vulnerable, not when Izuna can never trust anyone with him again.

“Omega, you don’t have to apologize to me.” He has to take a half-step back so he can kneel down in front of Madara, opening his arms to him, sighing softly when Madara leans into his offered embrace. “It was a natural response to me startling you. I’m not angry with you. I’m glad that you know how to respond to protect yourself, and I’m sorry I scared you.”

Madara’s cheek is wet when it touches Izuna’s. “I’m sorry for snarling at you like that.”

“Don’t ever be sorry. Don’t.” Izuna leans back and kisses him on the cheek, Madara’s tears warm and salty on his lips. “I want you to keep yourself safe always. Now if you don’t want to take these clothes because of bad memories, then we don’t have to take them.”

Madara struggles for a moment, looking torn. “I can’t ask you to keep paying for things for me. It isn’t right. I couldn’t possibly repay you for all of it. I—”

“You are my brother that I love so, so much.” Izuna brushes their noses together, smiling softly when Madara chirps up at him. “And I want to help you. I want to take care of you, like I keep telling you. So I’ll buy you all the new clothes you want, and I’ll buy you a hundred more pillows so you can make all the nests you want. Because I want to do it.”

Dark eyes squeeze shut for a moment before Madara exhales shakily and nods. “Okay.”

Izuna slips his arms around Madara’s waist, hugging his brother closer to him, unprepared for the moment when Madara basically climbs into his lap. But he lets him, rubbing his hands up Madara’s back and crooning softly to keep him calm and happy. The sooner they leave this house behind, the better. All he wants to do is ensure that Madara is happy, and being in Hashirama’s house is definitely not the way to do that.

“How about we go home, and you build a nice nest on the couch, huh?” Izuna kisses him on the cheek again, and Madara leans into his embrace, purring softly. “We can heat up some soup and watch bad movies tonight. And tomorrow we’ll look for clothes for you.”

“Okay.” Madara sniffles softly but nods, and Izuna rewards him with another kiss.

He packs the last of the boxes away in the trunk, satisfied they have everything they need, and makes a beeline for home. Kurama stays curled up in Madara’s lap, mewling up at him and giving his cheek the occasional lick as if he knows how distressed Madara is and wants to help him in any way he can. A good cat, even if he doesn’t like Izuna and never will.

Madara reaches for his hand at a red light, and Izuna lets him have it. “Thank you so much for being there for me, otouto. I don’t know what I would do if not for you.”

“Well, you’re never going to have to worry about that again. I’m never letting anyone take you away like that. Ever.” Izuna laces their fingers together and brings Madara’s hand to his mouth, kissing each of his knuckles and smiling when Madara giggles softly for him. It’s nice to see his beautiful brother’s smile once more. Especially after that.

“You’re fine with me nesting on your couch?” Madara asks, his head tilting to the side.

Izuna nods. He’s going to have to keep reassuring Madara, no matter how many times it takes to make it sink in. He has that patience and that resolve to do it. “Yes, I am. In fact, like I said, I want you to if it makes you happy. And I’ll be right there with you.”

He holds Madara’s hand for the rest of the drive home and feels marginally better to have him back in his own den, carrying the boxes inside and refusing help. He doesn’t need it, more than strong enough to handle a little excess weight here and there.

While Madara nests, Izuna heats up soup for both of them, his chest glowing with pride at the thought of his omega happy and purring in his den, settling in without any—

Okay. Izuna takes a deep breath, exhales, and shakes his head at himself as he picks up the bowls of soup. He’s been controlling those thoughts for the better part of his life. He can keep doing that for Madara’s sake. His brother should not have to worry about that.

Kurama winds himself around Izuna’s legs and yowls like he’s dying, so Izuna sets the soup back down and moves to feed him and give him fresh water. He’d almost forgotten his cat was late for dinner considering their impromptu trip, but Kurama won’t starve.

“Pick something out to watch?” he asks, gathering the soup bowls back up and carrying them into the living room. Madara smiles up at him and nods, and Izuna takes the place on the couch next to him, leaving a decent sliver of room between their bodies.

“We used to watch this a lot as kids. I thought it’d be nice to revisit it maybe.” Which means Madara just wants comfort, and Izuna can’t blame him. Just like he can’t blame him when Madara scoots closer to him, tucking his face in against the side of Izuna’s neck for a moment. Searching for the scent of an alpha he trusts, one he knows will protect him.

“I’m always game for nostalgia,” Izuna reassures him, then presses soup into his hands and coaxes him to eat if only to be free of his brother’s sweet scent for a moment.

Done with dinner, Kurama comes to join them, curling up on the back of the couch close to Madara’s head and closing his beady little evil eyes. Izuna scoffs at him, then tenses slightly when Madara finishes eating and curls back into him, seeking warmth and comfort. No, he can handle this. He can. The last thing he wants to do is scare his brother into thinking he owes Izuna absolutely anything, especially when he might just believe that.

The thought makes Izuna ill. He turns, letting Madara cuddle in against his chest, and smooths his hand down his brother’s back as he kisses the top of his head. No, he’s going to be a good brother. He’s going to take care of Madara and ensure he never has to be afraid of anyone or anything ever again, help him get back on his feet. Ease the pain with affection and warmth, and he’s going to keep his hands to himself, as well.

That’s easy. He’s been doing it for a decade. He can do it for the rest of his life.

“I love you, Zuna,” Madara tells him halfway through the movie, rubbing his cheek against Izuna’s sternum with a satisfied little sigh. “Thank you so much for being there for me today. I don’t know what I would have done if I had to go alone.”

“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” Izuna reminds him, and Madara trills up at him.

This is fine, because it has to be. Because Madara deserves only good things in life, and because Izuna is prepared to be the brother that Madara needs him to be to see him through this dark part of his life.

And when it’s time to let him go, he  _ will _ be able to let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh izuna 


	8. Chapter 8

Working from home is easy. Izuna used to do it in the early days of working with Tobirama when staying at the office all night felt depressing and somehow different than watching the sun rise through the window of his home office. He remembers frenetic video chats with Tobirama that lasted so long that one of their webcams would inevitably crash and they would have to go through the process of setting it all back up again in an effort to move their business faster. Tobirama’s idea, Izuna’s execution,  _ thousands _ of arguments.

“I think we should probably consider moving to a higher grade of tech,” Izuna tells him without preamble the next morning, hands occupied as he twists an elastic around his hair to keep it out of his face. It won’t dry like this, but he needs it back. “We went to pick up Madara’s things from your brother’s house, and it clued me into a few things.”

Tobirama nods to show he’s listening, but his gaze is clearly focused on his own computer screen from the frantic tapping of his long fingers.  _ “How did that go? Is he feeling okay?” _

“Yeah. I got him home and fed and situated. He’s in bed right now.” Izuna leaves out the detail of falling asleep on the couch and  _ staying _ there until dawn nudged at his body clock.

He carried Madara upstairs without issue, tucked him back into his nest in the guest room, and left Kurama there with him so he wouldn’t be alone when he woke up. But now the sun is up, Izuna has a mug of coffee as black as tar next to his elbow, and they need to work.

_ “That’s good to know. I’ve already contacted one of our lawyers to assist in the legal side of things.” _ Tobirama stops for a moment, clears his throat and looks directly into the camera.  _ “But we may not need to go that far. I think he’s going to just plead guilty.” _

Izuna hesitates, surprise etching its way into his features. He can see his face in the reflection of his computer screen. “Really? I thought for sure he’d want to fight.”

_ “Well, as I said, I contacted one of our lawyers. Specifically, I contacted Terumi after I spoke to Touka.” _ Tobirama turns back to his computer screen, and his fingers go flying once more while Izuna takes the time to open up his email. Ah, investor messages.  _ “A rejected bond bite alone is a good foundation to a case. They’re difficult to remove and take several years to break down after a mate dies, which I’m sure you’re aware of.” _

“Otousama’s took like, I think, five years,” Izuna hazards, though his memories are foggy.

Tobirama hums, pausing as he rubs long fingers over his lips before returning to his keyboard once more.  _ “Chichiue’s took a little big longer. I think maybe seven years after Hahaue passed. So for Madara to reject a bond that quickly, it’s substantial.” _

“I shouldn’t be happy to hear that.” Actually, it’s alarming to think about. Madara was calling for help in every single possible way that could matter, and no one even knew.

_ “You should be very happy, Uchiha. If Madara agrees to let her have the hospital reports, I’m sure she can build enough evidence to convince Ani-ja to take the easy way out.” _ Tobirama stops, and Izuna watches the screen carefully. Watches as Tobirama’s face twists into something unsavory before he gives himself a small shake and returns to his cool, collected expression once more.  _ “If the abuse was as substantial as rejecting a mating mark would suggest, then Ani-ja is looking at a very long prison sentence anyway.” _

“That’s true.” Izuna doesn’t know what to say. This is so much easier from his perspective because Hashirama is not his brother; Madara is. He cannot imagine what Tobirama is going through, what he is thinking and feeling as the truth weighs him down.

Tobirama looks directly into the camera again.  _ “What were you saying about our tech?” _

They spend roughly an hour discussing technology alone and what kind of trials they might have to schedule for something just a little bit better than what they have. Izuna only leaves his desk to refill his mug from the coffee machine he keeps in the corner of the room. He wishes out a granola bar from one of his desk drawers, shoving half of it in his mouth without a thought and tossing the wrapper into the trashcan behind him.

Working from home has always been easy for him. He and Tobirama get into five arguments within three hours of working, and that’s familiar to him. They manage to find something that might work, have one of their investors agreeing to fund a little bit more on their end when they explain their reasoning, and everything is smooth going by lunch.

A soft knock at the door distracts him, and Tobirama lapses into silence on his end of the computer when Izuna looks up. “Um?” he calls out. “Come in, it’s fine!”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. Izuna flips him off, knowing the monitor will hide it from view.

“Sorry to interrupt you.” Madara opens the door as quietly as he can, expression apologetic as he slips into the room. A loud  _ mewl _ makes Izuna jump, craning around the desk to see Kurama trailing behind him. “I thought you might be getting hungry.”

“What time is it?” Izuna glances at his computer clock, then blanches slightly to see his usual break for lunch was around two hours ago. “Oh, that’s. That’s really bad.”

_ “We were a little too wrapped up this morning… Afternoon,”  _ Tobirama agrees with a sigh.

“Is that Tobirama?” Madara asks, and Izuna nods, waving him around to the other side of the desk. He doesn’t recall Madara and Tobirama getting along well, because Tobirama is  _ the _ most prickly beta in the world, but maybe they should all be a little closer knit now.

_ “Hello, Madara.” _ Tobirama has a warm smile prepared for him, and Izuna wonders if Tobirama has ever considered acting as, like, a hobby.  _ “How are you feeling today?” _

“Better than I have been in a while. You look different than the last time I saw you. More mature.” Madara smiles back kindly, and Izuna breathes a silent sigh of relief.

Tobirama laughs softly and shakes his head, but the slight crinkle around his eyes reveal the smile is at least genuine.  _ “Well, I don’t want to interrupt the two of you from lunch, and I should probably go out and get something myself. Izuna, reconvene in an hour?” _

“Absolutely. I want to get this all hammered out by this evening.” The sooner the better, the faster they can get more advanced tech on the market to protect more omegas.

They hang up their video call and Izuna stands, running a hand through his still-damp ponytail as he turns to look at Madara. “Sorry for being busy so long. We just had something important we needed to get done as quickly as possible today.”

“I’m not judging you. You both work hard. I just want to make sure you remember to take a break and eat.” Madara nudges Izuna gently with his elbow, then crouches down and picks Kurama up just as he makes a beeline for a cord under Izuna’s desk. “Besides, I made lunch, and I thought you might want to come and join me? I can still cook.”

“You so don’t have to, but I appreciate it. Thank you.” Izuna trails after him, closing his office door behind him so that Kurama doesn’t get any ideas about gnawing through more of his computer cords. He must have spent hundreds replacing those damaged cords.

The house, he notices, is neater than it was when he carried Madara to bed this morning. The nest on the couch is still present, but tidied up and inviting, warm and soft-looking and tempting Izuna to curl up inside of it for a nap. Everything looks straightened up, and he might just be  _ insane _ but he thinks someone swept the floors. Has Madara been  _ cleaning? _

“You didn’t have to clean the house.” Guilt stabs him in the gut so hard it almost winds him. “I mean, like, I know you live here now, but you really don’t have to pick up after me.”

Madara smoothes a hand down Kurama’s back, and the cat purrs loudly, rubbing his cheek against Madara’s jaw. “I didn’t do it because I felt like I had to. I had breakfast and lounged around with Kurama for a bit, and then I got bored. And it needed to be cleaned.”

“But I should have been the one who did it.” Izuna touches his brother’s shoulder, yanking his hand back when Kurama tries to bite him. “I just feel bad. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything like that. If the house is messy, just tell me to clean it up.”

“It’s fine. Really. It’s my home now, too, and it gave me something to do,” Madara says.

Izuna wants to argue the point more, he does, but Madara only gives him a stern look before taking him by the hand and leading him into the kitchen. Maybe this goes two ways, and as much as he needs to reassure Madara, he also needs to step back and just let him be if he isn’t upset. His scent is perfectly even and sweet this afternoon with no hints of the distress and anguish of yesterday. Izuna needs to stop almost making it worse.

“Thank you,” he tries instead, wrapping his arm around Madara’s waist and kissing the side of his head. “You’re a marvel. I’m going to do something nice for you to say thank you.”

Mollified, Madara smiles at him. “Why don’t you just help me get my phone on a new plan and give me your wifi password after lunch? We can call it even from there.”

Lunch turns out to be grilled salmon, and Izuna thinks his brother may just be a miracle in existence and resists the urge to thank him on his knees. Izuna himself usually skips eating entirely during his lunch break and goes for a run instead, then wolfs down a granola bar or two once he makes it back to the office. Even when he works from home, like the one winter the roads were too nice to make it to the office or when he caught a cold, he favors whatever snacks he has squirreled away in his drawers and plenty of coffee.

Madara might not have been the only one losing weight recently, he realizes.

“I made myself some tea. I hope you don’t mind,” Madara says, pushing him to sit down at the table when Izuna tries to get him something to drink. “Otouto, I can do it myself. But I did notice you had quite a few boxes of unopened jasmine tea in the cabinets.”

For a moment, Izuna is silent. He pinches the bridge of his nose. Right, of course this would come up. “I just kept remembering how it was your favorite, so I’d grab a box of it every time I was at the grocery store. I guess it built up over time.”

“Well, there’s plenty of it. We won’t have to buy any for a long time.” Madara scoffs softly at him, brushing a gentle hand over the top of his head with such aching fondness.

Izuna takes tea with his lunch and thanks Madara no less than twenty times while he wolfs it down. He’s hungrier than he has been in a while, but he thinks it makes sense. All he ate yesterday was soup, and between rushing to the hospital, bringing Madara home, and then going out to Hashirama’s house… A lot happened, is all he’s saying. And he skipped making an actual breakfast this morning because he wasn’t thinking about it.

Madara sets Kurama on the kitchen chair next to him. The demon curls up there, tucking his face away into the fluff of his tail with a contented little trill. “I love your cat.”

“Good. He’s yours now. No givebacks.” Izuna scowls at Kurama, who doesn’t look at him.

“I’m happy to take care of him as long as you show me where all of his things are.” Madara picks up a piece of fish, blowing on it softly as steam wafts up from the fish. “I found his food in a cabinet so I could give him breakfast. Did  _ you _ eat this morning, Izuna?”

Izuna winces but shakes his head. Honesty. “No, I ate a granola bar after I had Tobirama on call. Wasn’t even thinking about, like… Eating, I guess. I’m usually fine without.”

“Well, that’s not good for you. You should eat three meals every day, especially when you’re working in an office like that. You need nutrition,” Madara says.

“Maybe we should make it a habit to eat together then,” Izuna offers, and Madara hums thoughtfully before he gives a small nod. “You can teach me how to cook as well as you do, and I can do the dishes after. Can’t really do that for lunch, because work, but—”

Madara cuts him off efficiently. “Then I’ll teach you how to pack a proper bento so you can actually  _ eat _ at work. Don’t make me put you on video call so I can be sure of it.”

Does he think that’s a real threat? Does he truly believe Izuna would be bothered to see his face breaking up long days in the office? “Oh no, how would I ever survive that?”

“How would you ever?” Madara flicks a piece of rice at him, and Izuna snorts as he picks it up off of his shirt and eats it without hesitation. “I mostly need your wifi password so I can shop. If you meant it about letting me have new clothes, I want to get them ordered.”

“Absolutely. And I can show you where your— Oh. No, you’ve found them.” Izuna blinks, realizing he hadn’t even noticed Madara changing from the clothes he slept in to something else, but he recognizes the shirt and pants from his own closet. Looks like it benefitted him to keep all of Madara’s clothes gathered together in one place.

His heart swells a little at the thought that Madara felt comfortable going into his bedroom to get them. Maybe getting his things from Hashirama’s house helped.

Madara nods, his eyes meeting Izuna’s slowly. “And that was fine, right? Getting them?”

“Yes. I’m glad you were able to find them okay.” Izuna smiles at him, and Madara visibly relaxes and smiles in return. “Are you sure you want to order clothes? I know some things don’t necessarily fit as well as a website says they will, but I’ll let you do what you want.”

“It’s not that I  _ prefer _ it or anything, but.” Madara sets his chopsticks down, his hand wandering up to his throat, and Izuna’s stomach plummets. Of course. Of  _ course, _ he is such a fucking idiot. “I can’t hide these, and I’d rather people not stare at me.”

“I’m sorry. I should have realized.” Izuna wants to get out of his chair and huddle against his brother’s side to apologize properly, but Madara… Seems fine. He’s holding it together.

Madara shakes his head, picking his chopsticks back up. “It isn’t your fault, Izuna. I’m not upset with you, either. If anything, I’m glad you aren’t constantly thinking about it.”

“Okay.” He needs to let it go. Madara is okay. “I’ll give you one of my credit cards. You can go ham on it if you want to. I wasn’t kidding when I said I make decent money, so you don’t have to worry about… Cost, or anything. Just get what you want and what makes you happy, and it’ll be money well spent. And if you need me for anything, feel free to interrupt.”

When Madara smiles softly down at his plate, Izuna is certain he said the correct thing this time. “Thank you. How is Tobirama, by the way? He looks well. He’s still single?”

“He is.” Madara must have noticed the lack of a mating mark. “He’s doing great as far as I know. We still bicker constantly, but you know, it’s for the good of the business. Keep each other honest, I think. Make sure we’re always thinking of the right choices.”

There isn’t anyone Izuna would rather do this with, in all honesty. Tobirama has a knack for this, and Izuna thinks they make a pretty good team put together.

After lunch, he loads the dishwasher. It takes twenty minutes of arguing with phone companies to disconnect Madara’s phone from Hashirama’s plan and a much more pleasant ten minutes to hook Madara up to his. He hands over his wifi password, then goes through the process of setting up a much more expensive virus scanner on Madara’s laptop and running a thorough check to ensure Hashirama has nothing installed to spy on him.

There isn’t anything. Probably Hashirama didn’t go that far because he was keeping the laptop, but Izuna still wanted to make sure. He hands over his credit card, tells Madara where Kurama’s brush is, and gives him a kiss on the head before heading back to work.

He’s ten minutes late coming back from lunch, but Tobirama says nothing to him about it.

Half a pot of coffee and three granola bars later, everything they can possibly do is wrapped up, and Izuna is satisfied with the results. He bids Tobirama a good night and signs off, stretching in his chair and groaning as he feels the stiffness in his back.

It’s been a good, productive day, and there is little more he can ask for than this.

He finds Madara downstairs curled up in his nest on the couch, brushing Kurama and watching some television show Izuna doesn’t recognize. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as Madara is happy, so Izuna heats them up some soup and sits down next to him to watch. It’s been a good day for both of them, and he’s just going to enjoy the last of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the support! apologies for missing answering some comments, but i'm about to sit down and start doing that. i was on a bit of a time crunch yesterday!
> 
> i think izuna and tobirama would make excellent business partners in an au where they were not ever childhood enemies. they're both sharp-witted and smart, and they'd suit each other well.
> 
> also a lot of fluff this chapter, because it's going to be necessary for what's coming.


	9. Chapter 9

_ “Oh, my love.” The voice is soft and sinfully sweet, fingers brushing the side of his throat while Madara shivers and closes his eyes. “You’ve been through so much, haven’t you?” _

_ The ache is missing in the dream. The slight pain when he swallows, the roughness that keeps a cup of tea at his elbow throughout most of the day. He whimpers when a thumb brushes where the bruise stretches across his scent gland, leaning up into the touch. So much pain, so much suffering, all in an effort to please someone who was never going to love him. The thought makes his stomach ache and he tries not to cry. _

_ “You’re safe now. No one is going to hurt you.” His alpha leans down to kiss him, mouth soft against his own, lips coaxing him to respond while Madara’s eyes slip shut. _

_ Worshipful caresses down his body linger only on the bruises for a moment, touching them with a tenderness that brings tears to his eyes. His alpha cups the back of his neck and draws him closer, whispering tender things against his mouth between kisses. When Madara reaches out to touch him in return, he doesn’t punish him. Doesn’t shove him away. _

_ “So good for me.” Another soft kiss, one that draws a needy whine from Madara’s lips. “Let me take my time with you, sweet omega. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” _

_ No more pain. Madara doesn’t want it either. It’s still hard to be patient, still hard to bide his time while his alpha’s hands roam between his thighs. He whimpers softly because he’s still sore but his alpha doesn’t hurt him, just pets the soft skin between his thighs until he quivers with how much he wants it. How much he needs to be touched. _

_ “Just my mouth, I think.” His alpha kisses him again. “All pleasure and no pain, my love.” _

_ “What about you?” The thought of not returning the favor is unthinkable to him. _

_ “There’s no need to worry about that.” His alpha parts his thighs and Madara shivers as warm kisses trail their way down his throat, so light and careful, never lingering too long on his bruised skin. “Your pleasure is mine. I’m more than happy to wait for you to heal.” _

_ Madara squeezes his eyes shut, fingers slipping into soft hair as his alpha trails warm, wet kisses down his body. A tongue flicks against his nipples until they’re hard and damp, and Madara toys with them and moans softly at the little sparks of pleasure in his veins. He needs this, needs to be touched with love and care and treated like more than an object. _

_ His alpha lingers around his stomach, kissing the flat surface of it before looking up at him. “When you’re better, we’ll think about pups. You’d make such a beautiful mother.” _

_ Yes, oh yes. Madara nods frantically and his alpha laughs, a sound that is devoid of any mocking intent and only filled with warm affection. He places one last lingering kiss against Madara’s stomach and then dips further down, lips brushing against his small, sensitive cock in a butterfly-light kiss that makes Madara’s hips spasm. _

_ “Sorry,” he chokes out, surprised at his own excitement and just a little bit afraid. _

_ “There is absolutely no need to apologize.” His alpha kisses him there again, tongue gently stroking along his shaft until Madara’s toes curl. “I love seeing you excited for me.” _

_ Madara gasps when his alpha’s mouth closes around his cock, little pitiful moans filling the air between them as he arches up gladly into the hot warmth. Hashirama never touched him here, never cared about his pleasure, but his alpha lavishes him with affection. Curls his tongue around Madara’s cock and sucks it gently until he keens and scrabbles at the sheets beneath him. His thighs tremble with the hot, bright pleasure. _

_ “So beautiful.” His alpha places one last kiss to the base of his cock and Madara falls back against the bed, looking down at him, silently pleading. “I could bring you just from that.” _

_ “But I want more,” Madara dares to whisper, and his alpha’s smile brightens up at him. _

_ “Of course. I won’t keep you waiting.” Strong hands slip under his body to cup his ass, drawing him closer as warm lips trace the part in his folds, spreading them with a deft tongue. “You smell so sweet, Madara. I’ll bet you taste even better.” _

_ He blushes at the compliment, slipping a hand down between his legs to part his labia for his alpha’s gaze. “Why don’t you find out?” His voice is breathy and unstable, and he’s almost about to flinch away from his own idiocy when his alpha licks into him. _

_ He shies away from keeping his hand where it is but his alpha catches him before he takes it back entirely, lacing their fingers together as he licks slow and long and deep. Every stroke of his tongue has Madara panting and whining, slick running heavy between his legs because it feels so good. He never gets to experience this, someone giving him pleasure and taking none in return. Rather, gaining pleasure just from drinking in his reactions. _

_ “So beautiful.” His alpha leans back to take a breath, slick glistening on his lips before he kisses over Madara’s folds. “Watching you writhe in pleasure for me is so rewarding.” _

_ Madara whines softly down at him, a blush burning in his cheeks as he rolls his hips down toward his alpha’s mouth. “Stop teasing me. Please, I’m so close.” _

_ “I know you are. I can taste it on you.” His alpha drags his tongue up Madara’s slit, his eyes glittering with mischief before he nudges his tongue back inside. _

_ It’s hard to feel bad about not returning the favor when his alpha keeps touching him like this, holding his hand and caressing his thigh while he closes his eyes. He eats Madara out like he needs the taste of him on his tongue, presses his face in so close that he can’t be able to smell anything but Madara’s scent, Madara’s cunt achingly wet for him. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly and then his hand slides across Madara’s hip to stroke his cock. _

_ The bright hot pleasure is almost too much for Madara to take, rocking between the confident fingers and the twisting tongue inside of him. He looks down at the alpha situated between his legs just as long dark lashes flutter open, black eyes pinning him— _

_ Izuna’s eyes. And just as suddenly everything is thrown into such sharp relief. _

_ “Nii-san.” Izuna kisses over him again, his mouth making a lewd, wet noise against Madara’s slit that draws a helpless whimper from his throat. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.” _

_ His little brother smiles up at him from between his legs and then leans in close to him again, tongue dipping inside of him where he’s wettest and tightest. Madara shudders and cries out, head falling back against the pillows, thighs trembling beneath the familiar, comforting weight of Izuna’s arms. His little brother, his loving alpha— _

_ His orgasm crests over his body, rolls of heated pleasure that lap through his veins and suffuse his entire body with warmth. He shudders and trembles and sobs around it but Izuna doesn’t move, fingers and tongue working him through it until he collapses back against the bedding beneath him. Safe and warm in the nest that smells like Izuna. _

_ He’s still shivering when Izuna kisses his way back up his body, lips lingering over his bruised scent gland for just a moment. Then he kisses Madara again, silky hair falling around his head, blocking out the rest of the world around them until it’s just the two of them. Until it’s just Izuna and the way he touches Madara, the confident brush of his fingers and the sharp, musky scent of alpha-pleasure heavy in the air. _

_ “Your pussy’s so gorgeous. I waited too long to taste it.” Izuna kisses him again, and Madara can taste the sweet tang of his orgasm on Izuna’s tongue. “I won’t make that mistake again. And when you’re ready for me, I’ll knot you sweet and slow.” _

_ “Izuna.” His name drips from Madara’s tongue like a plea, like a promise, like a prayer. _

_ “Nii-san.” Izuna cups his face and kisses him again, and Madara can feel the soft, insistent press of his erection against his stomach. “I love you so much, Nii-san.” _

Madara jerks awake in his nest, nearly toppling an entire side of it in the process.

His hands are shaking when he presses them over his face, his clothing clinging to him with a fine layer of sweat as he comes down from the almost-orgasm the dream brought on. A frustrated whimper leaves his lips because he  _ felt _ himself come in the dream so that his body being pent-up and needy now is like torture. He  _ needs _ to come.

As part of sleeping next to Hashirama every night, Madara trains himself not to make a single noise when a nightmare wakes him in the darkness. He remembers the early days and how hard it was to control, how his automatic reaction was to wake crying for his alpha, whining and keening softly to get him to wake up and help. And he also remembers a hand gripping his jaw, shoving his lips together, voice snarling at him to  _ shut up. _

It was the first time he thought something might be wrong. No, it was the first time he  _ knew _ something was wrong and chose to write it off as simply Hashirama being grumpy.

That means that he was quiet during the odd sensual dream as well. He thinks his mind and body just craved care so much that it would every so often just present him with a faceless fantasy. An alpha who touched him with the reverent care Madara used to think Hashirama would, a man who kissed him and touched him only when he wanted it. Gentle hands and kisses and soft, hushed words murmured low only for his ears.

So the dream, in and of itself, doesn’t surprise him all that much when it comes.

But he’s never seen his alpha’s face until tonight, has never been able to pick up on his voice or his touch in a way that made it seem familiar. Until tonight. Until he dreamed of his little brother’s mouth between his legs like it was all he ever wanted.

“Fuck.” Madara curls himself into a ball, trying to ignore the needy throb of his cock, the empty wet clench of his cunt. “What’s wrong with me? I… What’s  _ wrong _ with me?”

The ache between his legs refuses to go away and Madara hisses against it, hands twisting in his hair and pulling at the roots restlessly as he tries to debate about what to do. Maybe he can take a cold shower and hope that eases away the heat, but Izuna might wake up and notice something is wrong. He might even  _ still _ be awake, because God knows he was still working when Madara went to bed. Said he needed to do a late night conference call with someone who might be able to help him and Tobirama move a little bit faster.

If he can’t make it go away and can’t stop it, then he needs to take care of it himself.

It takes time for him to unfold his body and stretch out on his back, his face burning as he slips a hand inside of his yukata to touch himself. He has to be careful, because the bruises still hurt— And he groans when he remembers Izuna’s voice telling him so sweetly that he’d be careful of him. Groans at how it makes him throb with desire. And it doesn’t help that his nest still smells faintly of his little brother’s familiar alpha scent.

He should have known he would do something to fuck this up. He should have known that he couldn’t have anything good without damaging it. How many times did Hashirama tell him to just leave Izuna alone, to let him be off on his own and take care of himself and—

No. Madara closes his eyes, shaking away the thought. No, this isn’t… He hasn’t done anything yet to ruin the relationship he has with his brother. As long as he keeps that dream to himself, everything should be fine. Maybe it’s psychological. Maybe his instincts yearned for the one alpha he knew would protect him no matter what, because people have strange dreams all the time that never amount to anything important.

His fingers brush over the head of his cock and he whimpers softly, gripping it between his fingers to stroke himself earnestly. But it’s not what his body wants and he has to shift another hand down to rub between his folds, spreading the slickness over his fingers.

And he can still smell Izuna in his nest. He can still smell his alpha in his nest.

It’s still sore enough inside that teasing his fingers against his entrance draws a tiny whimper from his throat. He has to go slow, ease just two of them inside as carefully as he can so as not to strain his body too much. But he just has to get them in far enough to curve them  _ up _ and— His body bows off of the mattress, sinking into the sensation.

Izuna has smaller, slimmer fingers than him. If he was the one who was doing this—

Fuck, let it  _ go. _ Madara squeezes his eyes shut against the thought but can’t quite shake the images from his dream. The way Izuna looked up at him from between his legs, the touch of his hands, the wet curl of his tongue and the softness of his lips. So careful and cajoling, so sweet and thoughtful. A better alpha than Madara has ever known.

_ Your brother, _ he reminds himself, but his excited body doesn’t even have the self-respect to cringe in shame at the thought. He rolls his fingers against the front wall of his pussy and bites back a silent cry at how good it feels, how heat bubbles beneath his skin.

His little brother who used to linger in his shadow just so he could run in front of Madara to protect him from any perceived threats. His precious otouto who held him in his arms right here and took care of him, who washed his hair and clothed him and—

Madara sobs out when he comes, bucking into his own hands as slick drenches his fingers. He’s shaking from the force of the orgasm, far more powerful than any he’s had before, much less the very few Hashirama coaxed out of him when he was in a far more sadistic mood. And all he can think about is the way Izuna smiled at him.

Maybe he needs to see a therapist. Maybe that would shed some light on this.

He drags himself out of bed, tossing the ruined blanket and his yukata in the laundry basket before sneaking across the hall into the bathroom to clean himself up. He’s a mess in the literal sense but still takes care with himself, wiping away the wetness and not aggravating the bruises and sore skin. Izuna wouldn’t want him to do that.

Probably Izuna would throw him out for thinking about such awful,  _ awful _ things.

A fresh yukata from his closet and Madara pauses, then decides he needs a bottle of water before he goes back to bed. Sick guilt curls in his stomach now that the deed is done and he cringes away from himself, dragging himself down the stairs with a petulant frown. He can’t do this. Can’t think these things about Izuna, about his baby brother. He’s so fucked in his head that he’s going to ruin the only good relationship he has left.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when he finds Izuna already in the kitchen, retrieving his own bottle of water from the refrigerator. “Oh, hi, Nii-san. Having trouble sleeping?”

“Um. Sort of.”  _ Liar, _ Madara thinks to himself. “I just came to get something to drink.”

Izuna’s face softens and Madara tries very hard not to think about that, taking the bottle that Izuna presses on him without a fight and sipping the cool, refreshing liquid. Maybe he should research tomorrow while Izuna is working just to see if an omega’s instincts just… Make mistakes. If they can be beaten and abused so much that even family is preferable.

“Hey.” Izuna touches his cheek and Madara leans into it unthinkingly, then hates himself for it. What is wrong with him? How does he go about fixing this? “Do you want to sit down for a minute together? You look a little shaken up right now.”

The thought of being warm in Izuna’s arms is so tempting. It would be easy to nuzzle into his throat and let everything else bleed away, but that is exactly why Madara is in trouble right now. It stings, it  _ hurts _ , but he gives his head a small shake.

“I’m fine, really, otouto. Thank you for asking, though.” He tilts his head, kissing Izuna quickly on the palm before backing away from him. “I just need to go back to bed and I’ll be fine. Let me know if you need anything, though. I can take care of you, too.”

Izuna laughs softly and shakes his head, then leans closer. His touch is so gentle when he cups Madara’s shoulder. “I’m fine. And Nii-san, it’s okay. You can ask for comfort when you need it, all right? You don’t need to run away from me. I wasn’t even asleep.”

Madara scowls at him. “Well, you should be. It’s late, and you should be in bed.”

When Izuna draws him to the couch this time, Madara lets him. He wants to be close to Izuna right now, wants to drink in his touch and his scent. His body is lax and warm after his orgasm and the thought of curling up in Izuna’s arms sounds better than anything.

It shouldn’t. He knows better. But… He just wants to be close to someone right now. In the morning, he can figure out a way to fix whatever must be wrong with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> madara is about to go through some things, i wonder if izuna is going to notice or not~
> 
> and poor madara can't even catch a break. even his fantasies end up making him feel bad and dirty.


	10. Chapter 10

_ “I hired an intern.” _ Tobirama does not give Izuna so much as a second to process and protest those words before he continues on in that infuriatingly calm voice.  _ “His name is Shimura Danzo. I just emailed you his resume and the letter of recommendation from his professor. If you have any arguments to make, make them quickly.” _

“You’ve already hired him. Do I even get a say now?” Izuna couches his annoyance and opens his email, quickly scanning the PDF files attached to it with an aggravated sigh.

Tobirama smiles pleasantly at him.  _ “Of course not. I don’t begrudge you staying home with Madara while he recovers, and you know that. He needs your care and support.” _

“At least we agree on something.” Izuna lingers on the letter for a long moment, at least pleased to see this young  _ university student _ that has been hired seems to be well-praised by his professor. It could also all be bullshit to secure him the position, but Izuna had less than this when he and Tobirama started up together. “Why do we need an intern?”

_ “Because I have work that needs to get down around the office, and it’s easier for me to delegate some of those tasks to an intern skilled enough to handle them.” _ Tobirama forwards him another email, and Izuna dutifully opens it, a touch curious at its contents.

He promptly winces at the incredibly long to-do list that is before him. “I see.”

_ “Shimura is studying business and is top of his class. He also doesn’t look prepared to keel over the moment someone brushes him on the arm, so I assume that means he’s figured out how to balance school and sleep.” _ Tobirama gives Izuna a look, as if to suggest Izuna himself has not quite figured that out yet. Maybe that is true, but Tobirama absolutely has no reason to rub that in his face. Bastard, Izuna thinks fondly.  _ “We can afford to have an intern, if you are curious. I stayed up late yesterday to go over our finances.” _

“You take a shot at me for not having a good sleep schedule and look what you just said,” Izuna mutters, preening when crimson eyes narrow at him on the screen.

Tobirama clears his throat, a sharp and loud sound that makes Izuna’s speakers crackle faintly.  _ “Anyway, do you have any arguments? He’s already made this morning far easier than it’s been in quite some time. He brewed coffee and sorted all your files.” _

“Sounds like a good boy— Did you say he sorted my files?” Izuna ignores the prickle of annoyance at the thought of anyone in his things, but his organizational habits leave a lot to be desired. He should have known Tobirama would attempt to fix that.

_ “I did. Oh, hold on.” _ Tobirama turns away from the screen entirely, his expression softening around the edges.  _ “Danzo, come here and say hello. I have Izuna on video call with me right now, and it’s not likely he’ll be back in the office any time soon.” _

_ “Is he ill?”  _ The voice is slightly startled, and Izuna rolls his eyes fondly. Students.

_ “No, but there was a family emergency and he needs to remain at home so he can adequately handle it.” _ Tobirama gestures, and then shifts to the side.

Shimura Danzo is a young man with messy dark hair that looks on the verge of falling into equally dark eyes and a noticeable scar cut into his chin. The sight of it makes Izuna think of Tobirama’s twin brother, Kawarama, and the afternoon their tree-climbing antics in the backyard of the Senju house ended with a trip to the hospital. He wonders if Tobirama hired another beta, but he doesn’t dare just ask that in front of the boy.

_ “Nice to meet you, Uchiha Izuna-san.” _ Danzo smiles at him and Izuna bites back an  _ aww _ because the boy is a cute one. Harmless-looking, too.  _ “I’m sorry about your family emergency and I hope it gets sorted out. Until then, I’ll do my best to help here.” _

“Thank you, Danzo.” Izuna eyes the way Tobirama looks up at the young man, the flicker of something in his eyes that is unreadable. “I’m sure you’ll be a huge help to Tobira.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes so hard it must have hurt.  _ “He’s already more of a help than you’ve ever been. Danzo, finish with the categorizing I asked you to do.” _

Danzo beams and disappears from the screen, and Izuna shakes his head as he opens the first email Tobirama sent him this morning— Last night, he realizes from the time stamp. He scowls at Tobirama but says nothing about his sleep schedule, not in the mood to have an argument he knows he would never be able to win. Not even after hours of fighting.

“So this tech you found,” he says, and Tobirama leans in close to the screen again.

He gets effectively kicked out of working for the day around lunch time, which is probably for the best considering how much time he’s been spending in his office. In his defense, Izuna has been doing his best to give Madara space and not crowd him as much as his alpha instincts demand that he should. He would spend every day waiting on Madara hand and foot if he let his hindbrain take control of him, and that would get old really fast.

Maybe he can at least help with the household chores that Madara has been doing every time he locks himself away in his office to work. The ones Izuna insists he doesn’t  _ have _ to.

But he’s been doing research in his spare time and backs off. There are at least a handful of well-researched articles that suggest an alpha shouldn’t limit what an abused omega does around the house in a new location. Especially if there are hints that their control over their prior space or home was limited, they might simply be seeking to exercise what freedom they have now alongside claiming their new home through scent and touch.

So Izuna bites his tongue when Madara makes dinner but still at least washes the dishes.

He thumps downstairs and finds Madara curled up in a chair with his laptop perched on his thighs and Kurama draped across the back of his chair. “Nii-san, I’m going to do the laundry. Do you want to strip your nest so I can wash all the pillowcases and blankets?”

“Hmm?” Madara glances up at him, tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear. “You don’t have to do that, Izuna. I was going to start it after lunch was over.”

“But I want to help,” he whines, and Madara’s lips twitch up into a faint smile at the corners. God, he really is so beautiful when he smiles. “Tobirama kicked me out of work for the day so it’s not like I have anything else to do, and you’ve been doing everything.”

Madara laughs softly but shrugs and turns back to his computer. “Do what you want, then. If you really want to help, you can strip the bed for me. Just as long as I get everything back clean by tonight so I can put the nest back together, I’ll trust you to do it.”

Izuna’s heart slams into his ribs so hard it nearly winds him, but he beams and nods, leaning down to kiss his brother’s temple before heading back upstairs. An omega trusting an alpha with their nest is a supremely big deal, and his heart glows with warmth at the thought that Madara trusts him enough with this after Hashirama never let him— No. Izuna is not going to think about him or anything that happened between them.

Today has been a relatively good day. So he’s going to do the laundry and keep it one.

He takes care in stripping Madara’s nest, leaving all of the pillows at the head of the bed and gathering up the sheets as well. It all goes into the laundry basket that he carries downstairs to where his washer and dryer are situated.

Laundry is almost soothing. Just measuring out the proper amount of detergent and shaking out the pillowcases and blankets and clothing to ensure that nothing will be wadded up and improperly washed. Everything smells like Madara, savory and sweet and  _ happy, _ and something small unfurls in Izuna’s chest to know his brother is happy here. It makes him think he might have done something right, that Madara is finally satisfied.

Then his fingers brush over his brother’s yukata, and the scent that reaches him makes him stop. Makes his hindbrain perk up and insist he inhale deeply.

Izuna would know the sweet scent of an omega’s slick anywhere, even if every omega smells different. There is a visible spot on the yukata where it was once wet, though it must have dried by now. But that doesn’t change the fact that he can still smell Madara’s orgasm laid into the fibers, his cock giving an interested twitch in response.

No. He sets the yukata down into the washer, his breathing slightly uneven as he braces himself against the washer. His hindbrain is hardly interested in letting him forget about this, nudging him insistently even as he grits his teeth against it. Conjuring up the image of Madara on his knees, dark eyes peering up over the slope of his exposed back—

Izuna sets his jaw and shoves a hand down against his cock, then turns his attention back to the laundry once more. One of Madara’s blankets has the same sweet and tempting scent attached to it, but Izuna refuses to breathe it in. He can do this. He can.

_ It’s normal, _ he reminds himself.  _ It’s just an automatic bodily response. I’m not a kid, and I can control myself for him. He’s never going to find out anything. _

Childhood crushes are supposed to pass. Izuna was supposed to be able to move on.

He beats his desire back into submission until his cock softens once more, having long practiced in the art of thinking about every unsexy thing known to man. It works, at least, and Izuna is a relatively normal person by the time he walks away from the washer, pausing to set a timer on his phone. He wants everything to be clean and warm for Madara by tonight when he rebuilds his nest. Taking that away from him… No.

“Clothes are supposed to be in today,” Madara tells him when he returns to the living room; Izuna cocks his head at him. “The clothes I ordered. They’re supposed to come in today.”

“Oh! That’s great, I’m glad. I should have a bunch of empty hangers you can use for them.” Bought in anticipation of him having a lot of clothes only for him to just not buy any.

Madara smiles softly at him. “Thank you. For everything, otouto. You’ve been a great help.”

“I like being able to help.” Izuna takes another chair, not wanting to disturb Madara’s nest on the couch. “And I’m glad to be financially stable enough to do it, too.”

“When I’m feeling better, I’m going to start looking for a job. It’s not right for you to have to pay for everything.” The insistent tone of voice tells Izuna there is no arguing.

But Izuna has never listened to reason or logic. “Go at your own pace, Nii-san. I’m happy to give you anything you need while you’re healing. And I don’t want you to push yourself too hard because you think you have to pay me back or need to pay your own way.”

Madara rolls his eyes but sets the laptop down on the coffee table, catching Kurama when the cat immediately creeps down into his lap. “It doesn’t bother you at all? I’ve been here this whole time not able to help you with anything. That doesn’t seem right.”

“I don’t need the help. You do.” Izuna shrugs. What more is there to say on the matter? “It’s not a big deal to me. Tobirama and I make pretty decent money from work, and there wasn’t really anything else I was using it on. And you’re important to me.”

The soft flush that crawls up Madara’s neck… Izuna ignores that. “Thank you, Zuna.”

“What have you been up to today?” Best to change the subject before Madara tries to argue with him again. Maybe he can just keep him distracted from the subject.

“Just researching. You ever just… Have weird dreams?” Madara combs his fingers through Kurama’s fur, and the cat mewls up at him happily, rolling over to expose his soft belly. “I was just reading about those. Guess there was a lot I didn’t know about them.”

Izuna remembers very few of his dreams, and the few he does remember tend to make his life harder. “I remember one time I dreamed I had sex with Tobirama. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to sleep less in my entire life. That the kind of thing you’re talking about?”

Madara wrinkles his nose. “You’re so mean to Tobirama. But yeah, that was kind of what I’m talking about. I was just seeing what those kinds of things might mean.”

“Anything interesting?” Izuna hopes he hasn’t been dreaming about Hashirama. Literally anything would be better than that even if his hindbrain insists that  _ every _ alpha Madara could dream about is bad. Just push the instincts away. Easy said, easy done.

“Just that it’s usually not about actually sex unless you already wanted to have sex with whoever you’re dreaming about. It’s more like… Emotional connections? I guess.” Madara shrugs, and Izuna breathes a small sigh of relief. He just doesn’t want Madara to have to think about that bastard any more than he has to. “That was the basis of it.”

“That’s interesting. I wouldn’t have thought about that.” Though he doesn’t know what connection he could possibly want with Tobirama. They see each other plenty as far as he’s concerned, and they get along well enough. “You know, there’s this absolutely awful horror movie that has to do with dreaming. Maybe we should give that a watch.”

Madara scoffs at him. “You and your shitty horror movies. Sure, over lunch.”

They’ve gone through all of the soup Izuna bought by now so he makes an excuse to order them sandwiches from a nice shop nearby while Madara goes about adjusting his nest on the couch again. Maybe Izuna just misses his father too much or maybe their strained relationship during his childhood really did get to him a little bit, but he’s enjoying being curled up in an omega’s nest far more than he thought he would be at his age.

“You make such nice nests,” he says, and Madara glances up at him. “I’m just saying.”

This time, Madara ducks his head, but Izuna still catches the hint of a blush. “Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve just… Gotten to do it like I like to do it. It’s soothing.”

“It is,” Izuna agrees, and Madara looks up at him through long, dark lashes.  _ Gorgeous. _

The sandwiches distract him from thinking anything uncharitable about Hashirama, and he brings the bags back to the couch so he can divvy up their food while also digging up that awful movie he just has to make more people suffer through. More often than not, if they aren’t eating together at the table, he and Madara just curl up here together and enjoy food and each other’s body heat. Izuna is fine with that. He’s more than fine with that.

Some of the articles he read to make himself feel like less of a piece of shit reassured him that Madara would need physical touch and contact to ground himself. It’s okay, as long as Izuna is good to him. It’s okay, as long as Izuna can control himself.

And he can. For Madara’s sake and Madara’s happiness, he can do anything.

“Oh, I know this is going to be bad,” Madara says, rolling his eyes as the title credits start. “God, they always film like they can’t afford lighting. How are you supposed to  _ see _ it?”

Izuna laughs and opens his bag of chips, popping one into his mouth and chewing rapidly so he can speak. Spraying crumbs all over the nest will get him in trouble. “Believe me, I think seeing it would be worse. Wait until you see the monster. This is merciful.”

“Then I want to show you something after this.” Madara reaches for his sandwich, then stops, and something dark flickers across his face for a moment. “Ah… Hashirama and I were supposed to go see it together, but we ended up not going at the last minute.”

Teeth snag at the corner of his mouth before Izuna leans over, butting his forehead against Madara’s shoulder to shake him out of the memory. “Then I’ll pull the curtains and make some popcorn. We can pretend we’re seeing it and we snuck the beast in with us.”

Kurama hisses at him, because there is still no love lost between the two of them.

Madara’s eyes are softer when they meet Izuna’s, and he leans into him without hesitation, his body so warm and soft and fitting against Izuna’s perfect. “Thank you, otouto.”

They don’t say anything else that’s not about the movie, but Madara stays close to him, and Izuna makes good on his progress of shutting the curtains and making popcorn. It’s worth it for the way Madara looks up at him with sable eyes that shine like the night sky, for the sweet smile and the pleased little coo. Izuna would do anything to make him happy that this seems like nothing in comparison to moving mountains and parting oceans.

When he gets up to change the clothing over to the washer, Madara purrs for him. It spikes his alpha pride a ridiculous amount that he can make his omega happy.

_ Not yours, _ he tells himself.  _ Never yours. All he is to you is your brother. _

And it’s going to stay that way, even if Izuna has to take cold showers from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> s/o to CreativeSweets, whose comment inspired a moment in this chapter!
> 
> also i thought it would be nice if tobirama had a ~~cute~~ helpful intern to assist him around the office while izuna is focusing on madara.


	11. Chapter 11

The bruises take just over a week to fully fade, though Izuna relishes the moments where he can see the tiny changes in color as they slowly heal themselves. Madara finishes off the prescription he was given and returns to walking and sitting normally without pausing to ensure the position is not causing him pain, and it alleviates some of the stress that has been hovering in Izuna’s veins and plaguing his hindbrain since the beginning.

He spends every single one of those days at home. Sometimes he leaves the house to take a run around the neighborhood, but for the most part he can’t bring himself to leave. The thought of leaving Madara here alone for too long makes the alpha in him bare its teeth and snarl, like he needs to be right here at all moments to protect Madara.

But the morning he wakes up and sees no trace of bruising on Madara’s body, he decides to bite the bullet and give his brother some space. “I think I’ll go into the office today.”

“You probably should. You’ve been working from home all this time.” Madara doesn’t even glance up from his breakfast. He was already up and dressed and cooking when Izuna’s alarm went off, which is just unfair. Nobody else should have that intense skill.

“You’ll be fine with me gone?” Izuna asks, and Madara cuts him a sharp look. “Right, right, I’m sorry. I’m going to see if Tobirama will pick me up so you can have the car today.”

Madara cocks his head, thoughtful. “Thank you. I might decide to run a few errands.”

“Whatever you want to do. I’m not going to stop you. Here, though.” Izuna digs his wallet out of his pocket and slides Madara one of his credit cards. Just in case, of course.

“Thank you.” There’s no argument about how he doesn’t want to use Izuna’s money, which is gratifying. Idiotic alpha instincts rumble in satisfaction that Madara is allowing himself to be taken care of, but Izuna plants the sole of his shoe firmly on their throat to keep them down. “I’m going to pack you something to eat for lunch so you don’t conveniently forget.”

Izuna rolls his eyes and whines. “Nii-san, I’m not a little kid. I’m not going to forget.”

“And I absolutely don’t believe you. Besides, you still have to shower and get dressed, so I have plenty of time.” Madara smiles smugly at him, and Izuna does not even want to argue the point with him. It’s not worth it. Besides, it’s been a good few days lately.

He hasn’t done anything stupid about what he found in the laundry, and Madara is glowing this morning. Dressed in a pair of soft pants that hang off of his hips and a tank top that shows off arms that are still impressive despite the missing muscle, all of that wild hair of his neatly brushed and tamed into a soft mane around his face— Madara is  _ beautiful. _ Izuna isn’t weird for thinking that. Absolutely anyone with eyes would believe that.

He texts Tobirama about a ride after breakfast and takes a cold shower, gritting his teeth against the chill before the numbness kicks in enough to let him wash in peace. Brushes his teeth, yanks his hair back into a ponytail, and throws on a pair of pants and a nice shirt. No jeans, because Tobirama is going to fuss at him the entire ride.

_ What do you need a ride to work for? _ Tobirama demands of him.  _ You have your own car. _

Izuna shakes his head at the phone, quickly tapping out a response.  _ Yeah, one car. And I’m leaving that with Madara for the day. So if you don’t mind, I’d like a ride. _

The response is at least rapid fire, even if it isn’t really the one Izuna wanted.  _ I’ll send Danzo after you, then. He lives closer to you than I do and he hasn’t left the house yet. _

How does Tobirama know whether or not Danzo has left his house? Izuna shakes his head and decides not to question it, heading back downstairs for his shoes. “Nii-san, I’m dressed now. Did you actually manage to pack lunch that quickly, because I feel like—”

“Of course.” Madara appears in the kitchen doorway with an expression of such triumph that it sweeps Izuna’s legs out from beneath him for just a moment. How is it getting  _ worse _ when it should be getting better? Maybe he just needs to go to work. “And if you don’t eat it and I find out, I’m going to make sure you pay for it.”

“Oh, I believe you.” Izuna shrugs on a jacket just in case the morning is a chilly one, though the clouds outside are threatening rain hard enough to make him think he’ll need it anyway.

Madara brings him the bento box and Izuna is struck powerfully by how it could  _ be _ like this if— No. Absolutely fucking not. Normal people do not fantasize about domesticity with their older brother bringing them packed lunches, and Izuna is a normal person. Maybe his hindbrain is a little out of control recently, but he’s been breathing in nothing but omega scent for days. He just needs to be around other people for a little bit.

Besides, Madara deserves better. He deserves the best. And Izuna is not that.

“Here.” Madara tucks the box into his hands before he can argue and kisses him on the forehead, and Izuna’s heart gives a pitiful little stutter. “Have a good day, all right? And don’t worry about me too much. I’m… I’m really going to be okay, otouto.”

He doesn’t sound like he believes that, so Izuna will believe it for both of them. “I know you will be. Let me know if you need anything, though, okay? Call or text or anything.”

“I won’t, but I will if I do.” Madara smiles softly at him, and Izuna has just enough time to return the forehead kiss even though he  _ shouldn’t _ before the sound of tires on asphalt alerts him to the fact someone has pulled up in his driveway. Right. Time to work.

The car is a much nicer one that he expects to see from a university student, and it makes him wonder if their new intern has money backing him alongside his own intelligence. It’s hard to see him through the tinted window, but Izuna isn’t trying to waste his time. Instead, he just slips into the passenger seat, mouth opening around an apology for his new intern having to go out of his way when the scent hits him right in the face.

_ Omega. _ Tobirama has hired them an omega intern.

Of course he has. It wouldn’t bother Tobirama at all to have an omega around the office just as it doesn’t really irk him that Izuna is an alpha. Betas might be aware of the alpha and omega pheromones, but they aren’t really bodily affected by them in the same way.

Izuna is just having the best morning. Absolutely not a single thing is going wrong for him, and he does not absolutely loathe his business partner so much he might quit over this.

“Sorry if I was a little late, Uchiha-san.” Shimura Danzo is every bit as cute as he seemed on the other side of the computer screen, not quite meeting Izuna’s eyes as he throws the car into reserve and backs out of the driveway. “I hope the family emergency is going well? Senju-san asked me to come pick you up so I thought things might be better.”

“My brother’s just been having a rough time lately, but things are better now.” Or they will be better now, but better not to share details that aren’t his to share.

Danzo nods, his eyes focused on the road with an intensity that Izuna approves of. “That’s good to hear. Senju-san has had me organizing files in your office lately, so it should be ready for you to return to. I also organized your, ah… Snack drawer.”

He did  _ what? _ “Thank you,” Izuna says, choosing not to even dignify that with a response.

“It’s been a good experience so far, I think.” Danzo only averts his eyes from the road to check around him, a very good boy indeed. “I like working with Senju-san.”

“Did he yank the stick out of his ass long enough to be a proper boss, then?” Izuna cannot resist, because he can just bet that Tobirama has made comments about him behind his back. That’s fine. Their working relationship has always been like this.

The slight flush that crawls up Danzo’s neck has him biting back a small smile as he glances out the window next to him. “Ah, I, um… He’s been very direct in what he wants.”

“Relax. I like to tease him. I’m sure he’s been teasing me.” Izuna glances back at him and Danzo’s face reddens further, which just confirms what he was thinking. “Very good.”

Danzo smells like most of the omegas that Izuna knows, sweet and a little soft, very inviting and mild compared to the far more aggressive scent of an alpha. But he doesn’t hold himself like he’s afraid Izuna is going to jump him at any moment, which is good. Izuna has an abrasive scent that some omegas love and some hate more than anything.

Unlike Madara, who has the savory-sweet version, Izuna is all hot spice and musk. There isn’t much he can do to downplay it, either. Even the colognes and deodorants meant to help mask that scent really never do much to dampen how he smells.

The drive to the office is a pleasant one with the quiet, and Izuna is careful not to jostle the bento box in hand as he and Danzo slip out of the car and head into the elevator together. The receptionist at the front desk waves at them and Izuna beams at her.

“How’s the testing been?” he asks Danzo when the elevator doors close. “Tobirama sent me the forms for electronic signing a few days ago but hasn’t said anything about it since.”

“Successful so far. I believe a report should be coming in today about it.” Danzo tilts his head slightly, looking up at Izuna through his lashes as if he thinks looking directly at him might be something he’s not allowed to do. “I just wanted to say that the work you two are doing is… Really good, Uchiha-san. I’m sure you already know that, but it really is.”

Hearing that from an omega always feels different than hearing it from everyone else. Izuna allows himself a softer smile. “The work  _ we’re _ doing,” he corrects, and Danzo smiles.

“Uchiha,” Tobirama says as soon as the elevator opens, shoving a file into Izuna’s hands. “Good to have you back in the office. I already have my copy. Go review this for the next ten minutes so that we can sit down and discuss it— Is that a bento?”

“Yes, it is, and what would you have done if I was some stranger that just got off on the wrong floor?” Izuna demands, taking the file and waving it in Tobirama’s face.

Tobirama scowls at him. “That has never happened. Oh, good morning, Danzo. I’ll need you in my office at your earliest leisure to go over the plans for today.”

“Yes, Senju-san!” Danzo beams at him, and Izuna shakes his head. God, these two.

He lets himself into his office and checks all of his drawers immediately, finding everything neatly organized and filed just like Danzo said it would be. Even his snacks have been organized into neat little piles based on flavor, and he can’t help a small  _ aww _ at the sight. He tucks the bento in with them so he definitely can’t misplace it.

Promptly ten minutes later, a knock comes at the door, Danzo peeking around it with an apologetic smile on his face. “Senju-san is asking for you. Also, I made coffee.”

“You’re an angel. I already love you.” Izuna takes the mug that Danzo offers him and shoulders his way into Tobirama’s office with the report tucked under his arm.

Danzo shuts the door for him like an  _ angel _ and Izuna drops down in the chair on the other side of Tobirama’s desk, propping his feet up on the edge of it just to see the flicker of annoyance in Tobirama’s eyes. Only when he sees the corner of his mouth twitch into a frown does he sigh and remove his legs, but he makes sure to take the utmost care to make it as dramatic and loud as possible. Have to properly reintegrate back into working.

“I want to ask you how Madara is before we get started,” Tobirama says, and Izuna cocks his head at him. “The bento made me wonder. I know you don’t pack your lunch.”

Izuna clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re right. I don’t, and I didn’t pack that one, either. He did. And he’s… Doing better. The bruises have all healed up.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Tobirama is quiet for a moment, his hand brushing over the top of his mug of coffee, fingers tracing the rim of it. “Ani-ja’s supposed to go in front of a judge in a couple of days to plead guilty. Terumi has convinced him it’s the best course of action.”

“Considering Madara rejected their bond mark? It probably is.” Izuna does not care what happens to Hashirama, but he has enough consideration to not just rub that directly into Tobirama’s face. He isn’t quite sure what the Senju family has been going through, but he imagines it can’t be any better than what he and his family once went through.

At least Hashirama isn’t  _ dead. _ Maybe he should be, but he isn’t.

Tobirama nods, but he keeps his eyes focused on the mug. “I couldn’t really see much with the way Madara was leaning over on camera that day, but… His neck. I did see that.”

“Yeah.” Izuna takes a sip of coffee to swallow back the bile in his throat, which is a horrible combination that makes him want to vomit, but he deals with it.

“But if he’s doing better, that’s all I can ask for.” Tobirama looks up at him now, his eyes pinning Izuna in place. “How are  _ you _ doing? I know Madara is the one in recovery, but I’m not going to pretend as though that means it must not be even a slight struggle for you.”

Telling Tobirama the truth is absolutely off of the table; no one knows how Izuna feels about Madara, and no one ever will. The minute he voices it, there is no taking it back. The minute it slips from his tongue and into the awareness of another person, there will be no ignoring it and choking it down and pretending as though it has never happened.

The minute he makes it real, it can never be just idiotic, idle fantasy ever again.

“I’ve been better,” he admits. “I feel like my instincts are all over the place because I just want to help him and keep him safe, but I’m doing a lot better than he is.”

Crimson eyes regard him with a gentle sympathy that makes his gut twist. “I know Madara means a lot to you. He’s your big brother. I can’t imagine seeing him in this condition has been easy, but… I’m glad he has you to lean on. Because I know you love him.”

The way he phrases that has Izuna prepared to leap out of the chair, turn his back, and never return. But there is no stern judgment in Tobirama’s eyes. Of course not. He just means in the familial sense, and Izuna is paranoid. “Of course I do. And I’m always going to do my best to be there for him to lean on. I think he deserves that much from me.”

And if he can’t provide that, what kind of brother would that make him?

“So this report,” he says, because talking about this any more is literally going to kill him.

Danzo does not interrupt them so much as he slips soundlessly into the room to refill their mugs of coffee and to deliver something to Tobirama without a word. The day goes by as fast as they usually do, dragging when Izuna has nothing to do but busy work and actively passing too fast when he might be onto something. Lunch comes and he sends a text to Madara just to ask how he is, then eats what Madara packed for him.

Maybe he gets just a  _ little _ emotional about it. His hindbrain really is a disaster, but something in his chest twists at the thought of Madara just… Carefully packing this for him, and with so much care and attention. He wishes he could do something like this for Madara, something that would convey just how much he cares about him.

Within reason, that is. Within  _ reason, _ because Izuna is not trying to—

His phone vibrates just as he packs the empty box back up, and he glances at the screen. Then stops entirely to read the message a few times before he immediately stands up.

_ Can you please come home? I don’t want to be alone right now. _

His hands quiver just slightly as he types out a quick reply.  _ I’m on my way back. _

“Hey.” He bangs into Tobirama’s office without preamble, waving his phone when Tobirama looks up at him and  _ scowls. _ Danzo, who’s been leaning over his shoulder studying something on his computer, jumps up with a squeak. “Madara texted me and wants me back home.”

Tobirama’s face softens. “I see. Go on, then, and let him know he wasn’t taking you away from anything important. We’ve done almost everything that needed doing today.”

Good to know. Izuna would have lied about that anyway. “Got it. Thanks for understanding.”

He orders a driver to come and pick him up to take him home and sends Madara a few reassuring messages while he waits, skin prickling with unease at the thought of what could have happened. All he needs to do is get home and take care of his omega.

_ His _ omega. Izuna squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head at himself.

Get home. Take care of Madara. That’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh no! i wonder what happened to madara :(


	12. Chapter 12

The coppery tang of blood in the air fills Izuna’s throat with bile as soon as he steps into the house. His nose wrinkles and his instincts snarl at him for daring to leave the house, but he takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself as he slips out of his shoes and hangs up his jacket. Everything is so still and quiet that he almost wonders if Madara… If he left. If Izuna did not come home fast enough and he went somewhere else.

Where would he go? The thought makes Izuna’s heart beat faster. Where is he?

“Nii-san?” He steps further into the house, allowing the scent of blood to guide him toward the kitchen. Relief surges through him when he sees Madara sitting at the table, head bowed. “Nii-san, there you are. I thought… Are you okay? Tell me what you need.”

He brushes his hand along Madara’s back and jumps when Madara flinches and whines at him, huddling in further on himself. “I’m sorry,” he rasps out, not lifting his head.

“What are you sorry for? We were already finished at work. I probably would have come home early.” Or at least tried to. Tobirama hasn’t been putting up much of a fight about him not being in the office, so Izuna would have tried to work something out.

Madara keens softly up at him and Izuna’s heart breaks a little at the sound. “I… I didn’t mean to. I just wasn’t paying attention, and… I broke a couple of your plates.”

Is that all? No, to Madara, that would have been something major. To  _ Hashirama, _ that is. “That’s fine. Are you all right?” Izuna leans around him, reaching for where his hands are cupped in his lap. He can see smears of blood on Madara’s pale skin.

“It’s not fine. I— I know it’s not. You can punish me.” Madara peeks up at him from beneath his hair and… Izuna’s heart skids to a stop.  _ Punish _ him? Over a few plates?

“They’re plates. I can replace them. You’re far more important than they could ever be.” Izuna does not even own nice plates like so many other people he knows. He just has the same basic plates that he kept around his old apartment in university, not interested in owning something like fine china just so he could put it up, never use it, and worry about it breaking when carted from place to place because of the ridiculous cost.

He wraps his fingers around Madara’s wrists and lifts them out of his lap so he can assess the damage, hissing softly at the sight of so many small cuts on his fingers. None of them look to be serious or deep, but he wants to sterilize them and bandage them so that they can close and heal properly instead of re-opening every time Madara moves his hands.

“Is that why you wanted me to come home?” he asks, and Madara ducks his head. “To punish you? Well, I’m not going to punish you. Not for this and not for anything.”

“You’re not?” The way Madara looks up at him is soul-destroying. No one should ever seem this relieved and excited about not being… Beaten, Izuna thinks. Because he’s certain that’s what Hashirama would have done instead of worrying over his mate’s safety.

Izuna shakes his head, kissing the back of Madara’s hand and tugging him up out of his chair. “No. What I want to do is take you upstairs so I can take care of your poor hands.”

“I don’t understand how you aren’t mad at me.” Madara at least follows when Izuna leads him out of the room, careful not to touch his injured fingers. “You let me come stay in your house and I repay you by damaging your property. How are you not angry?”

Christ, what has Hashirama  _ done _ to him? Izuna has seen only hints of the ramifications of their relationship, in Madara’s reactions to everything good and bad so far. Watching him fall to his knees in Hashirama’s house sobered him significantly, reminding him that it would be a long journey, but he just never thought it would be over something like his plates getting broken. That Madara would call him home and then loyally sit and wait for Izuna to come beat him. As if he could ever raise a hand to Madara.

As if he did not sink his teeth into the arm of the last person who tried in front of him.

He sits Madara down on the edge of his bathtub before he finds the will to speak. “I love you so much, Nii-san. You’re the most important thing in the world to me, you know?”

“But—” Madara starts, and Izuna shakes his head to quiet him, leaning close to press their foreheads together. Rumbling low in his throat until Madara relaxes against him.

“There are no exceptions to that. You could never do anything to make me love you less than I do.” Despite his best efforts to cage some of that love. Despite his best efforts to be normal. “I’m never going to hit you because you break something. It was an accident. I’m more concerned over your poor hands than I could ever be over some old plates.”

Madara looks down at his hands, still cupped lovingly in Izuna’s own. “I had to pick up the pieces. I didn’t want Kurama to cut his paws. He kept trying to come near me.”

Maybe Izuna can soften his opinion toward that damned beast. “You’re a good man, you know that? And you don’t deserve to be punished. Not for this. Not for anything.”

“I… Okay.” Madara’s shoulders finally unbunch and Izuna breathes in his scent, assuring himself that he has actually calmed down before he moves away from him.

He has antiseptic and bandages in the counter draws and kneels down in front of Madara, taking care to wipe away the blood and dab each cut. He admittedly gets overzealous with the bandages, but Madara doesn’t say a word to him. Just lets him indulge his own instinct to care for and protect his hurting brother. When the last one is applied and he is certain he managed to cover all of them, Izuna cups his hands and kisses each of them.

“I love you,” he says again, and his stomach twists painfully because he  _ does, _ and Madara can never know how much. Can never know there is an alpha  _ right here _ who wants to treat him the way his own mate never would. “And I’m always going to love you.”

Madara slides off of the edge of the tub and into his lap, and Izuna isn’t ready for that, but he catches him anyway. Tries not to shiver when Madara nuzzles into his neck, looking for comfort. “I love you, too.” He sounds choked, but at least he doesn’t start crying.

Izuna rubs his hands up and down Madara’s back, very aware of their proximity and the soft, small noises Madara makes right beneath his ear. He doesn’t sound like he’s hurting anymore, at least, not making those sad little whines and keens that always destroy Izuna at the base level. Good. He hates it when Madara is sad over anything.

He makes a note to let Tobirama know everything is okay when he gets the chance, but right now it’s hard to imagine leaving this room. Instinct says  _ protect _ so Izuna does, trying to wrap as much of his lean body around Madara’s broader frame as he can. Tucking Madara’s head up under his chin and growling softly when Madara makes a questioning chirp up at him. Reassurance, letting him know that Izuna will keep him safe.

“Alpha,” Madara whispers, and the sound goes… Straight to places it shouldn’t.

Just a reaction, of course, to Izuna’s protective behavior. Just Madara’s recognition that Izuna is, in fact, the alpha in this situation, and Madara trusts him to be. That’s all.

He left Madara home alone and he got hurt. That happens. That is just a thing that happens, and it might happen again, so Izuna needs to swallow that down and accept it might just be a part of their lives. Madara is not seriously hurt, just a few nicks and scratches on his hands. The real pain was deep down inside of his heart.

There is only so much Izuna can do to protect him from that.

But physically, there is plenty Izuna can do, and hindbrain wants to take Madara to his nest and watch over him. Tuck him in and make sure he rests and keep him happy, make him purr again until he falls asleep. And Izuna is just stupid enough to think that’s a good idea himself, gathering Madara up into his arms and standing with ease.

Lean muscle or not, Izuna is an alpha. Carrying omegas is what he’s made for.

“Izuna!” Madara squeaks and grabs at his shoulders, but Izuna only turns and carries him from the bathroom, spiriting him down the hall to his room. “What are we doing?”

“Nest,” he says, and Madara settles into him and does not argue with him.

The entire room smells of nothing but sweet omega and Izuna breathes it in as he carries Madara to his nest, depositing him into the pillows and blankets with ease. He likes the way Madara looks up at him, all soft and warm and relaxed now that Izuna has him where he feels most secure and most comfortable. And Izuna is going to watch over him, too.

He eyes the room speculatively and then huffs in annoyance, turning to pin Madara down with his eyes. “Stay here,” he says, and Madara chirps up at him in assent.

Izuna has canvas bags in his pantry for when he needs to go grocery shopping and stops when he smells Madara on them. He lifts one to his nose speculatively and sniffs, a low rumble of satisfaction rolling up his throat when he realizes that yes, Madara did leave the house today. He must have run the errands and then come home and— He’s home now, and safe, and waiting. Izuna should not keep him waiting more than he has to.

He fills the canvas bag with granola bars and dried fruits, a few bags of jerky and bottles of water. When Kurama rubs against his leg and mewls, Izuna scoops him up, keeping his wriggling body in the crook of one arm. He has an electric tea kettle and grabs that too because he can easily refill it in the bathroom, then shoves two boxes of jasmine tea into his canvas bag. He has insulated mugs with lids and crams two of them into the bag, one for each of them. Nothing else will fit, so this is going to have to do.

“Izuna, what are you doing?” Madara asks him when he returns.

“Here.” Izuna sets Kurama down in Madara’s arms, then drops the canvas bag on the nightstand. “I need to get water. I’ll be right back.”

The bathroom across the hall gives him the water he needs for the kettle, and he sets that up on the dresser so neither of them will risk knocking it over getting out of bed. Then he sets the mugs next to it, along with the tea, for when they need it.

“Izuna,” Madara says, but Izuna hardly hears him.  _ “Alpha. _ ”

That has Izuna swinging his head around to see Madara looking up at him, one hand resting on Kurama where the cat has curled up next to him. “Omega,” he says softly in return.

“What’s wrong?” Madara frowns at him, and Izuna gives himself a little shake. “You just… I’m sorry if I’ve done something that… I don’t know what’s going on with you.”

Izuna takes a breath to calm himself. Omega is confused and maybe upset, so he has to do better for him. “I just need to take care of you right now. Is that all right?”

“Yes.” Madara settles back into his nest and Izuna almost  _ preens _ with pleasure.

He only leaves the room once more, to change into something more comfortable and to retrieve his laptop so they can watch whatever Madara might want to watch on it. Then he climbs into the nest, picking Kurama up and depositing him on Madara’s other side so he can smash himself against his brother, combing his fingers through his hair and rumbling.

Omega is safe and warm and tucked away in his nest, and Izuna has water and tea and food for him, so they don’t have to go anywhere. Just curl up here nice and safe.

“Thank you.” Madara tilts his head, his nose brushing against Izuna’s. “You’re a good alpha.”

This time Izuna  _ does _ preen, wrapping himself more tightly around Madara and tucking his nose into his hair. “For the most important omega in the world, I have to be.”

Madara tucks his face into Izuna’s neck and  _ purrs, _ and it makes Izuna’s breath catch.

Izuna doesn’t know why the particular memory arises that does, but he remembers being tucked into Madara’s lap while his brother whimpered and purred over him. Remembers the two of them sitting on the steps of their childhood home, Izuna’s face sticky with blood and his mouth tasting heavily of copper. He clung to Madara and growled at anyone who came near them, desperate to protect him. To keep him safe.

Young alphas go feral sometimes in a bid to keep their loved ones safe. It’s why the memories of that night are so foggy, though Izuna sometimes swears that he can remember the grind of bone against his teeth when he bit down as hard as he could.

“I love you so much.” He dares to fold himself a little tighter around Madara, peppering his hair with kisses. Already he’s warmed up from being in his nest, soft and sweet-smelling.

Madara laughs softly up at him, petting a hand up and down Izuna’s spine. “You keep saying that. I promise I know, otouto. And I love you, too. So much.”

“I feel bad.” Izuna cups the back of Madara’s head and holds him close when he tries to lean back, probably wanting to look up at Izuna. “I feel like I should have been there for you. To save you from him. I should have known something was wrong.”

The hand on his back stills. “You couldn’t have known. That isn’t your fault. If anything, I should have tried harder to tell someone what was going on. I waited so long to get help.”

“How could it ever be your fault that he hurt you?” Izuna crushes Madara against his chest, lacing his fingers in all that wild hair. “You did your best. You  _ survived _ him.”

Madara sighs against his throat, and Izuna shivers at the sensation of warm breath against his skin. “How many times do you have to save me to believe you’ve done enough? You’re taking such good care of me, Alpha. How much more do you think you have to do for me?”

“Everything until you feel safe.” And he doesn’t miss the way Madara keeps calling him  _ Alpha, _ or the way it pools warm and satisfying low in his gut.

Logic dictates Madara is only using the title to help him calm down, to center him and focus him through his instincts and his hindbrain’s desperate need to protect and provide for the abused omega in his house. But Izuna still takes it as more than it is, still drinks it in as more than he should, because he wants to hear that from Madara. He wants to be the one Madara calls  _ Alpha, _ the one he turns to when he’s afraid or wants to be taken care of.

There isn’t any more denying it, because lying to himself doesn’t work. Shoving those thoughts and feelings down doesn’t work. When Madara was kilometers away and they hardly spoke or saw one another, it was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong with him. That he was normal, that he simply didn’t want to chase a mate down because he was busy with work, busy with the business he and Tobirama have built from the ground up.

That he wasn’t refusing because no other omega could never measure up to Madara.

Madara kisses his throat, and Izuna bites down very hard on the urge to do  _ anything _ about that. “You’ve already done so much for me. You don’t have to do more. This is enough.”

“It’s not enough. Not yet. But one day, it will be.” Izuna just… Ignores the kiss and buries his face in Madara’s hair, willing him to relax, to go to sleep and let himself rest.

The tea kettle beeps to notify him that the water is heated up and Izuna crawls out of the nest to retrieve tea for both of them. He presses some jerky and fruit on Madara and is satisfied when Madara takes them both, just sitting next to him and petting his hair while he eats and drinks. This is what Hashirama should have done for Madara during his heats. Should have laid next to him in his nest, should have pampered him and brought him snacks.

There is so much that Izuna has to make up for. So much that he has to do correctly so that Madara learns how an alpha should treat him. So he has standards for the next person who comes into his life and softens his heart enough for him to love again.

Izuna grits his teeth, tucking his face into Madara’s shoulder. And when that day comes, Izuna will do the right thing. Grill the bastard for hours about his intentions, but ultimately let Madara fall in love with an alpha who isn’t his brother. An alpha who can take care of him and cherish him the way he absolutely deserves to be cherished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait! saturday night/sunday morning was a wild time this weekend. hope you all enjoy this belated chapter!
> 
> poor izuna's going full instincts in this one.


	13. Chapter 13

Madara has been living with him for three weeks when Tajima finally comes home.

Izuna braces for his return like one might brace for a battle they do not expect to win, his stomach churning as he waits for his father to arrive home. He loves his omega father, he does, more than anything in the world. But Tajima’s constant absence in their lives since Izuna started university has been grating even if he understands why. Even if he likely would have chosen the same reaction if he was the one in Tajima’s place.

Just the same, he paces and sweats and waits for Tajima to arrive at his front door. He’d received Tajima’s message about being home and simply invited him over, not wanting to broach the topic over the phone. At least all of Madara’s bruises have gone away.

If he could see Madara bruised and beaten in the same way he once was—

“Are you trying to wear a path in the hardwood?” Madara asks him from the comfort of his couch nest. He’d spent the better part of the morning rearranging it, nervous in his own way, though Izuna hasn’t said a word about it. “Pacing won’t make it easier.”

“I know, Nii-san.” Izuna stops himself, dragging a hand over his face before he perches on the arm of the couch. His nerves are shot. The morning has already been too long.

Dark eyes meet his before darting away, and Izuna stretches out a hand to stroke his fingers through Madara’s hair. When they near the nape of his neck, Madara stiffens. “Please,” he says, but Izuna knows he means  _ stop _ without having to be told.

“It’s not supposed to hurt if you’re touched there,” he says, but Madara only frowns at him and tries to make himself smaller. “It’s me. Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”

The question obviously does not sit well with Madara, who shakes his head but tries to curl up smaller just the same. “I know you wouldn’t. I just… I remember it hurting. All the time. And I just… I know you won’t hurt me, Izuna, I just don’t… I don’t know.”

Pushing it today would be a bad idea, and Izuna knows that. But Tajima will be here soon, and Madara is going to be tensed the entire visit. As long as Izuna doesn’t push too hard, maybe he can get Madara to open up to him just a little bit. “You can look at me while I do it, hmm? Or you can hold onto me. Anything that will make you feel more secure.”

“Come here then.” Madara pats the nest next to him, where he’s likely wanted Izuna since the morning started. It’s taken real self-control to not even bother offering.

Dragging himself out of Madara’s bedroom to go to work in the mornings has been hard on him, even though there hasn’t been a repeat of his first return to the office. Izuna’s instincts have calmed down significantly. He can at least give Madara space now.

That the two of them have been sharing a bed, a  _ nest, _ has gone unsaid between them. Izuna simply crawls into it every night at the end of days that are too long, and Madara covers him with blankets and cuddles close to him and refuses to let him go. It helps, because Izuna has learned Madara’s tendency to have nightmares is very high.

He sits in the nest, biting his tongue hard when Madara crawls up into his lap and curls into him. “Just relax, Nii-san,” he says, nudging his nose up under Madara’s jaw.

Madara shudders but relaxes into his embrace, and Izuna takes a moment just to hold him and soak in his scent and warmth before he cups the back of his neck. The skin here is smooth and soft under his fingers, and he croons low in his throat to keep his brother calm while he touches him. Every little brush of his fingers makes Madara wince and tremble, as if waiting for the moment when Izuna will gather up the hair here and yank.

But he doesn’t. He kisses Madara’s temple and presses just barely, massaging the skin, feeling it grow warm under his touch. “You’re doing so good for me, you know.”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Madara tucks his face into Izuna’s throat as his body slowly grows slack, fingers tangling in Izuna’s ponytail. “It’s… It feels so nice. I didn’t know it would.”

Izuna croons for him again. “It’s always supposed to feel nice. Any time you’re upset or scared, I can touch you like this to help you calm down. It centers you. And you can do the same for me, if you think I need it. Does that sound fair to you?”

Madara nods and burrows into his arms, and Izuna just holds him and lets him cuddle as much as he needs. While he watches, Kurama slinks his way up onto the back of the couch, giving Izuna a nasty look for taking Madara away from him when he obviously came for attention and cuddles. Bastard cat. Izuna is not going to  _ share _ any time soon.

Soft lips brush against his throat when Madara speaks, a devastating effect considering how close he is to Izuna’s scent gland. “He’s going to cry. I know he is.”

“He probably will.” Tajima is a tough bastard, but Izuna cannot imagine him being able to hold it together in a situation like this one. “I’m here, though. For both of you.”

“And whichever boyfriend he has right now.” Madara scoffs and Izuna laughs, just cupping his hand over the back of Madara’s neck to keep him close. “How many will this be?”

“In the last few years…” Izuna trails off, trying to think. He’s been out of university for two years now, so that’s six years roughly since this started… “I’d say the fifth one.”

Madara groans into him, and Izuna really, really tries not to feel that lower.

He is saved by the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway, nudging Madara off of him and giving him a swift kiss on the top of the head before moving to the door. All they have to do is tell Tajima the truth, get him caught up with everything that’s happened, and deal with the emotional fallout. Izuna can do this without going crazy with the need to protect Madara in any way. He can. He took medication to calm himself just this morning.

And if he managed to sweat it out already, then all of them are royally fucked.

Tajima’s car door is opened by his current flavor of the month, a young man who looks younger than Izuna and who flashes him a friendly smile as soon as Izuna opens the door. Dark, messy hair and dark eyes, nice shoulders? Izuna doesn’t really know. He isn’t into other alphas and so he never really stops to catalogue their features.

“Otousama,” he greets Tajima as the two of them step into the house, noting the moment when Tajima glances toward the couch. The scent, of course. Madara’s scent is impossible to hide, and Izuna would never try. “Nice to see that you’re back safe and so—”

“Madara?” Tajima moves away from the door and Izuna shuts his mouth and the door instead of speaking. “Sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”

Izuna is an adult. He’s made peace with the fact there is a weird rift between him and his father, and that Tajima will always just get along with Madara better. Omega solidarity, or something. And Tajima is probably going to hate him for failing to protect Madara this time, which Izuna really was not thinking about until this exact moment.

Well. He can get by in life without a good relationship with his parents, surely.

The alpha who walked his father into the house offers his hand to Izuna with a bright, friendly smile that lights up his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sarutobi Hiruzen.”

“Uchiha Izuna.” He won’t be around long, likely, but Izuna shakes his hand just the same. “Nice to meet you, too. I hope the two of you had a fun trip together.”

Tajima’s voice cuts through the conversation immediately, which is fine. Izuna had no desire to talk about what part of the world his father was getting fucked in anyway. “Madara, what happened to your mark? Did something happen to Hashirama?”

Their father is perched on the edge of the couch with his hand tucked into Madara’s hair, having pulled just enough of it away from his neck to reveal the skin where his bond bite once was. The skin there is smooth and pale once more with no hint of a scar, and the thought gives the alpha in Izuna a savage delight. His unmated, unmarked omega brother, throat all smooth and soft and just waiting for him to come and sink his teeth in—

He’s fine. Everything is fine. But the way Madara looks up at him with wide, startled eyes tells Izuna that Madara is afraid and needs him right now, and he can handle that.

“It’s okay.” He leaves his father’s boy toy at the door and climbs back into the nest, and the way Madara leans on him and away from Tajima is satisfying. “I’m right here.”

Long fingers twine with his own and squeeze as Madara looks up at Tajima once more. “He’s in jail,” he says, voice trembling faintly, and Izuna gives his hand another squeeze and moves closer to him. As close as he can without making it too personal. “For good, I think.”

“He’s not getting out any time soon,” Izuna confirms. Hashirama could always have a chance at parole, but the law comes down hard on alphas who abuse an omega so severely.

“What happened?” Tajima turns his attention fully to Madara, hand rising to cup his face, and Madara leans into his touch, into the soft comforting note of his scent.

Madara gives Izuna’s hand a tug and shakes his head. “Otouto, I… Can you please…”

“Yeah.” Izuna leans back a little and Madara stretches across his lap, tucking his face against Izuna’s stomach and clinging to him just like he has the last two days when they practiced him trying to tell Tajima what happened. This is fine. They planned for at least this much. “Otousama, Hashirama was abusing Madara. Touka brought him to the hospital and I went and picked him up. He’s been living with me for the past three weeks.”

Silence stretches between the two of them for a long, tense moment as Izuna cups his hand around the nape of Madara’s neck once more. His brother burrows tightly into him and Izuna lets him, not letting his eyes drift away from Tajima’s gaze.

Everyone has always told Izuna that he looks like his omega, and not his alpha.

“What?” Tajima’s voice is strained and tight; Hiruzen moves across the room to his side and takes his hands, trying to do his best to be comforting. Izuna resists the urge to bare his teeth at an alpha so close to  _ his _ omega, but he reminds himself that no, Hiruzen is with Tajima. He doesn’t want Madara. Isn’t even looking at him. “When did… I…  _ Hashirama? _ ”

Izuna nods, petting his free hand down Madara’s spine until his brother’s hold around his middle loosens slightly. “Yes. I know it doesn’t sound likely, but you can see Nii-san rejected the bond mark, and you know how few times that ever happens for an omega.”

Death is the most common cause, death of a beloved mate. Some alphas, Izuna knows, never find closure and do not reject the mark at all. They die instead, their heart always wrapped up in their missing omega. He can just imagine a fate like that for himself.

Tajima’s eyes widen slightly at him, his hand wandering up to his own neck to touch where his husband’s bond bite used to be scarred into his skin. “How… I… How bad was…”

“How bad do you think it was?” Izuna keeps his voice low and soft, but the bite in his words is hard to restrain. “Really think about what you’re asking and what I just told you.”

Madara makes a low warning sound up at him and Izuna scrapes his teeth across his lower lip, telling himself to stop. To calm down. Tajima loves Madara and always has, and he needs time to process this just like the rest of them did. The rest of them  _ have _ been processing it while Tajima has just come home and had it heaped on him. It’s better this way, though, for Madara to be in even a slightly better place before telling Tajima.

Hiruzen clears his throat, rubbing a hand up the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I should—”

“Otousama.” Madara sits up slowly, leaning away from Izuna, and Izuna does not chase him down or pull him back. He doesn’t, and he won’t. He can be good. He  _ can. _ “I… Can we talk about this… Upstairs? I’ve been staying in the guest room. It’s more comfortable there.”

Tajima nods and offers Madara his hands, helping him up out of his nest and immediately pulling him into his arms, rubbing his hands up Madara’s back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low but Izuna can still hear it. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here for you, my love.”

“You didn’t know.” Madara nuzzles into his shoulder and Tajima hugs him tighter, and Izuna ignores the small, tight sting in his throat. Thank God they’re okay. “Nobody knew.”

“I wish I’d known. I’d have taken you away from him. I’d never have let him hurt you.” Tajima leans down, pressing his forehead against Madara’s, the low soothing sound of his purr filling the air so that Madara softens against him. “Upstairs, you said? Let’s go.”

He folds his arm across Madara’s back as they walk upstairs together, and Izuna watches them like a hawk as he stands and stretches the loose muscles in his legs. Every part of him wants to follow, be close to Madara and protect him. Because he knows that Madara is going to tell Tajima… Maybe not everything, but as much as he can. And he’s going to do that alone, which is brave of him. But it makes Izuna feel like he’s going to vomit.

Madara is going to cry, and Izuna won’t even be there to comfort him through it.

“I’m really sorry to even be here right now,” Hiruzen says, and Izuna slants a glance at him, looking him up and down. There’s nothing really all that remarkable about him, even if he does smell like an alpha. Playing it safe. “Do you want me to go? I can come back later.”

Izuna should kick him out. Having another alpha in his den right now is the worst.

But he also doesn’t want to be responsible for getting Tajima home or having him here any later than he has to be or wants to be. Izuna knows he might not be comfortable here, would not even really blame him for it because he  _ understands. _ Has been prickly ever since his father showed up, a blend of protective instinct and that deep, buried hurt that he never thinks about unless he has to. Kicking out Tajima’s escape route is a no-go.

He shifts on his feet, tips his head back and sighs. “How do you feel about, uh, lawn care?”

Hiruzen blinks at him, and his scent edges toward something slightly afraid. Like he thinks Izuna is going to drag him outside and kill him and bury him under the grass. “Uh—”

“Cool, cool.” Izuna grabs a handful of his shirt right under his collar and drags him through the kitchen and the den to the back door. Fresh air might do him some good, and if it means another alpha’s scent does not permeate his house, well… This will be fine.

If he’s in the house and he hears Madara start crying, he won’t be logical anymore. He’ll storm up there and try to protect him from a threat that doesn’t exist.

Izuna doesn’t take care of his own yard, of course. He pays someone to do it for him because there are ordinances he needs to follow in this neighborhood, and he would very much like to not be bothered by his neighbors. The grass is short and neat, the hedges are shaped, the tree limbs are trimmed when they grow dangerously long or heavy. Everything is perfect, left in the hands of a professional. It all smells nice, soothing, and green.

Standing in his backyard with a stranger trying not to run upstairs and take care of someone who doesn’t need him… That shouldn’t be a normal weekend, and yet.

A hand brushes his shoulder and Izuna’s head twists sharply, Hiruzen yanking his hand back with a small yelp. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. I just… I wanted to. I don’t know. Say sorry? I’m sorry your brother is obviously going through a lot.”

“He is.” Izuna tilts his head back, scenting the air in an effort to clean his nose and throat of Madara’s scent even if his instincts don’t like not being able to smell his brother. “Sorry if I’m kind of dickish right now. I didn’t want to put off telling Otousama, but Madara was going through a lot. So I did what I thought was right and I put him first.”

This time, when Hiruzen touches Izuna’s shoulder, Izuna doesn’t shrug him off. “I’m not in a place to tell you if you did the right thing or not. But at least your brother’s safe now.”

“Yeah.” Izuna fixes his gaze on the closest tree, watching the leaves sway. “Yeah.”

It still feels like he’s never going to be able to do enough for the people in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> izuna and tajima's relationship is... it's something. there's a lot going on there that's going to come out eventually.
> 
> and so i have to ask you all to buckle your seatbelts because it's about to hurt really, really bad.


	14. Chapter 14

Madara is barely awake when his nose twitches, guiding his head to the soft, bared throat in front of him. A soft questioning chirp leaves his lips as he shifts closer in his nest, fingers brushing silky black hair back so he can take in the full, spicy scent.

Interest coils heavy and warm in his belly as he nuzzles against that scent, chirping softly when he realizes there is an alpha on the edge of rut in his nest. Right next to him, arms wrapped around him gently, breathing even and slow and smelling better than any alpha ever has. Better than Hashirama ever did— Madara hisses faintly at the memory, curling closer to this alpha. Hashirama smelled rich and green but that is a pain scent now.

This alpha smells safe and enticing and Madara’s face warms at the thought that he’s somehow already netted him, brought him into his nest and just waited for this.

It takes him a few more minutes to wake the rest of the way up to realize exactly what he is doing, exactly who he is scenting like this. Takes the alpha sighing as he shifts in Madara’s arms, eyes still shut, lips parting around an exhalation that sounds like  _ nii-san… _

Izuna. Madara freezes abruptly with his lips against Izuna’s throat, biting back a small whimpering sound as he slowly draws himself away from his little brother. His brother, his  _ younger _ brother, still asleep after last night and smelling on the edge of his rut.

_ What the fuck is  _ **_wrong_ ** _ with me? _ Madara takes care to untangle his limbs from Izuna’s, climbing out of his nest as carefully as possible so that Izuna doesn’t wake up.

Then he races across the hallway to the bathroom, closing the door behind him and locking it as he sinks down against the cool wood. Guilt sinks into every bone in his body as he whines, shoving his face into his hands and trying so hard to ignore that throb of want in his gut. His entire body screaming at him to go  _ back, _ alpha  _ needs _ him, and doesn’t this alpha want him? Curled up in Madara’s nest, touching him so gently, taking care of him.

No, Izuna is doing that because the two of them are family and because he feels like he needs to, not because he wants Madara. Not because he wants to rut him.

A soft mewl on the other side of the door has Madara unlocking it just long enough to let Kurama into the bathroom. Cats are smart, he knows, because Kurama instantly climbs into his lap, small paws kneading at his chest as he searches for pets. Like he knows Madara is upset and has come to distract him, to get him out of his own head.

“Sorry, kitty.” Madara smoothes his fingers through Kurama’s soft orange fur, smiling when Kurama instantly purrs up at him, a soothing rumble as he noses at Madara’s jaw.

Maybe he should just… Feed the cat and find something to distract himself. Maybe call Tajima and ask to come stay with him so that Izuna can ride his rut out in peace.

Izuna won’t want Madara around for his rut, anyway. Alphas are far more sensitive to scent while in rut than an omega could ever be, and likely Madara is going to smell awful to him until his rut is over. Madara doesn’t want to inconvenience him, not when Izuna has done so much for him. And besides, he should try to spend more time with Tajima.

The two of them haven’t seen each other in so long, but he promised to stay nearby so that Madara could come to him any time he needed him. Surely that includes this.

Madara stands slowly with Kurama in his arms, unlocking the bathroom door and letting himself out into the hallway so he can feed the cat. The hour is still a little early for breakfast, but the moment he sets him down, Kurama makes a beeline for his food dish and meows. His interest is clear, and Madara needs to think about something other than how Izuna smelled like everything Madara has ever wanted to climb in his life.

Kurama threads between his legs while he feeds him, then darts to his food and starts crunching away with quiet little  _ nyams _ that make Madara smile faintly.

Is Izuna going to remember to feed him in rut? Probably. Kurama does have claws.

Madara’s phone is on the counter to charge and he picks it up, his hands shaking faintly as he opens up his text messages and selects Tajima’s name from his list of contacts.  _ Izuna is about to go into rut. Can I come stay with you for a few days until it’s over? _

_ Of course you can. I’d be happy to have you. _ Madara breathes a sigh of relief and nods, setting his phone back down. He’ll come back for it after he packs a few things.

“Nii-san?” Izuna’s voice is rough with sleep and Madara peeks around the kitchen doorway to see him stepping off of the stairs, one hand raised and rubbing at his half-closed eyes.

“I’m right here.” Madara feels bad. Izuna probably started to wake up as soon as he left, but… No, that can’t really be right. He must have just woken up naturally, because Izuna would not have that instinctive pull to search for where his omega had gone.

And Madara is not his omega. Just like Izuna is not his alpha.

“Mm. Woke up and you were gone, so I just wanted to check on you.” Izuna leans against the wall for just a moment, looking absolutely exhausted as he meets Madara’s eyes.

Maybe he isn’t awake enough to realize it yet, so Madara gently broaches the topic for him. “Ah, I asked Otousama if I could come stay with him for a few days. You’re getting ready to go into rut and I… I just wanted to give you space to deal with that.”

“Hmm?” Izuna blinks at him for a moment, then straightens up so suddenly he almost falls back against the stairs. “Oh, I…  _ Fuck, _ Nii-san, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I forgot. I’ve literally been on top of it my entire life and I just… I’m sorry. I really am.”

Madara bites the corner of his mouth and does not spit out that it isn’t Izuna’s fault for getting when Madara has been here to distract him. “It’s okay. Really, it is.”

“Fuck.” Izuna rubs a hand over his face, and Madara eyes the already faint, visible flush crawling slowly up his neck, up over the soft skin stretched over his scent glands.

Part of him was afraid it might be like this. That he might have been so damaged from what Hashirama has done to him that his heat or Izuna’s rut might make him feel like this, nudge him toward his brother. He needs to find somewhere to stay that isn’t Izuna’s house before he makes a mistake, needs to find an apartment or something. Maybe Izuna can help him with that, and Madara can get a job and he  _ will _ pay Izuna back for his help.

Before he can voice that aloud, Izuna brushes past him toward the kitchen. “You don’t have to leave. I know you’re like, settled and nested. I can just go stay with Kagami.”

_ Kagami? _ “As in, our cousin Kagami?” Madara didn’t even know he still loved close by.

“Yeah, he owes me a favor anyway. He can deal with me stinking up his house for a few days.” Izuna’s phone is across the room, placed just out of Kurama’s reach because he has lost a good dozen cords to Kurama’s teeth. “And you don’t have to leave. I don’t want to make you feel like you need to kick yourself out because I need to jack off a few days.”

Madara ignores the heat that coils low in his belly at the thought. No, he can be normal about this. If he and Izuna were not related, this would be a logical response in his body anyway. Most omegas who find an alpha attractive would feel like this.

Maybe this is just because he’s only been around Hashirama for so long. Taught and trained to only respond to his scent because it was the only one he knew. Izuna is just the first alpha so close to his cycle that Madara has scented since then.

“Isn’t Kagami an omega? Won’t that make it uncomfortable for you?” Because Kagami will probably smell bad, and it has  _ nothing _ to do with the slight flare of jealousy in Madara’s stomach that his alpha is going to leave their house to go stay with another omega.

Like Izuna would ever think about doing anything to him. Izuna wouldn’t do that.

“Nah, it’ll be fine. I’ve been around him when he’s in heat before and it didn’t bother either of us that much.” Izuna shrugs a shoulder at him, fumbling with his phone for a moment.

“Does it… Does it bother you to be around me?” Madara shoves his hands behind his back, not willing to admit to the way they curl into fists because he doesn’t want Izuna to leave.

“No. Of course not.” Izuna looks up at him, and Madara swears that for just a moment, Izuna’s eyes flicker toward something like desire. But of course he’s hallucinating that. Izuna has not one single time given him the impression he would ever want that.

When he realized Izuna was the one who touched his laundry after he masturbated to thoughts of him, he was embarrassed and ashamed. Too wrapped up in trying to make the dream not mean anything to realize his little brother’s hands were on his slick-soaked clothing. Only Izuna washed them and gave them back to him and said nothing about them, because his scent, even the most intimate one, never affected Izuna like that.

“Then why do you feel like you need to go?” Madara has to stay calm, or Izuna is going to think something is wrong with him. “This is your home. This is your  _ den, _ Izuna, I know you’re not going to feel settled if you just up and leave to ride your rut out elsewhere.”

Izuna sets his phone down, and Madara wets his lips. He didn’t have time to send a message to anyone, so maybe he isn’t going to leave after all. “Because when it gets bad, I’m not going to be able to keep my head on my shoulders enough to check on you if you need me. I’m not stupid, Nii-san, I know my rut scent is probably going to be an issue for you.”

Madara’s mouth dries at the thought because no, Izuna cannot possibly know about the traitorous curl of need in his gut. He’s trying so hard not to let it show in his scent.

“Like, the last time you would have smelled anything like it was him. And I don’t want to be that memory for you.” Izuna turns back to his cell phone, and Madara deflates, pressing his lips into a line. That’s fair. That’s entirely fair. “So you can stay here and I’ll go stay with Kagami for a few days. He owes me, so he can deal with airing out his apartment.”

“I still think you should stay here. This is your home, not mine.” It feels wrong to phrase it like that, but it is the truth. Madara is just a guest here, after all.

He wants it to be home, though. In the very back of his mind and his heart, he likes waking up next to Izuna every day. He needs to sit down and find a therapist to discuss this with before it becomes a problem, because he doesn’t want to make Izuna uncomfortable.

Their relationship has just been so good. It’s been everything Madara has ever wanted or needed from an alpha without the romantic or intimate aspects.

“It’s your home, too, Nii-san.” Izuna doesn’t even look up at him when he says that, so he doesn’t see the way Madara has to struggle to keep his face set into a neutral expression. “I can just stay with Kagami, like I said. If you want, Otousama can come back over.”

Madara opens his mouth to argue the point further, then stops himself. Izuna is visibly tired, probably from the onset of his rut, and arguing with him is just going to exhaust him rather than help him. “Okay. If that’s what you want to do… Can I help you pack at all?”

“No, that’s all right.” Izuna brushes past him out of the kitchen, and Madara has to physically fight himself not to turn and follow that attractive scent to his nest.

That he can even be thinking about sex is just proof that his body is hardwired against him. He was just curled up in his nest yesterday with Tajima, choking through the details of what Hashirama did to him, or at least as many as he could admit to out loud. As many as he could spit out without feeling like he wanted to die, cutting pieces of himself out to hand to his father with shaking hands because what else was he supposed to do?

Talking about it helped, at least a little. Talking about it to someone who understands even a shred of what he went through gave him a chance to ground himself just a little.

And a reminder that Tajima has gone through some of this and come out of it on the other side, and that Madara can do the same if he’s kinder to himself. Not running off with men half his age, perhaps, but just… Kinder in general. Kind enough to let himself be.

_ Don’t talk about forgiveness. _ Tajima’s hand was so gentle as he stroked Madara’s hair, letting him cling as tightly as he wanted.  _ You don’t need to forgive what he did to you, and you have nothing to forgive yourself for. You did nothing wrong, baby. He did. Not you. _

Izuna comes back downstairs after Madara has already started breakfast, moving mostly on autopilot as he remembers the conversation with his father. It was long and it hurt and by the time the two of them could be bothered to leave his nest, it was just to find out their respective alphas spent the entire conversation outside.

_ Idiots, _ Madara thinks fondly. At least Hiruzen seems kind enough.

“All right,” Izuna says, and Madara blinks, glancing up at him from where he has been attending to the chicken in the pan for the last few minutes. “That should do for three days. That’s about how long it lasts. I’ll call a ride and leave you the car.”

“Are you sure you want to leave the car? Also, you should probably tell Tobirama what’s going on so he knows,” Madara says, but Izuna only gives his head a little shake.

“My rut schedule is penned into our work calendar. Yes, I hate it, but Tobirama wanted to be thorough, the bastard.” Izuna drops a bag down into a seat at the table, and Madara resists the urge to rifle through it to see if he has enough clothes. “Besides, our new intern is an omega and so I’m sure Tobirama doesn’t want me anywhere near the office.”

An omega? Madara ignores that yank at his stomach again and turns back to the chicken. While Izuna is gone, he can just… Try to research whatever the hell is wrong with him this time and try to figure out where to go from here. “That’s probably true, yeah.”

“I really am sorry to just up and run out on you like this, but… It is what it is.” Izuna shrugs weakly at him but Madara only smiles and shakes his head.

“It isn’t your fault. We’ve both been kinda busy lately, hmm?” Or at least Izuna has been, coming home late some nights and making Madara worry he’s working himself too hard even if he and Tobirama were just trying to force a breakthrough faster.

Izuna smiles and nods at him, and God, he looks so tired. Dark circles under his dark eyes, so noticeable against his pale skin. He should be in bed. He should be in Madara’s nest— “Yeah. Probably good to be forced to slow down for a few days.”

“Just try not to work from Kagami’s apartment while you’re resting.” Not that he thinks Izuna will be able to do that. Just because Tajima ran interference to keep Izuna as calm as his ruts as possible, they always drove him just a little bit insane every cycle.

Madara still remembers coming home to the sight of Izuna angrily scenting every single doorway and window in the house. Trying to protect, trying to shield, even though he was just a teenage boy and had no real idea of what to do with his knot. Running on the pure instinct to protect the house, protect Madara and Tajima, who were older than him.

But Izuna has always been like that. He was the only alpha growing up other than Tajima’s mate, and nothing has really changed in that vein. Not in years.

“Make sure you eat plenty before you go,” Madara says, and Izuna nods, leaning around him to snatch a slice of carrot off of the cutting board. “I mean it. Remember when you thought you could just live off of junk food your second rut? It killed you.”

“I only crashed for sixteen hours. I was fine.” Izuna huffs at him, but the embarrassment is clear on his face as he shoves the carrot into his mouth and moves to the table.

Madara turns his attention back to the food, intent on getting as much of it into Izuna as possible before sending him off to Kagami’s. Maybe he should try reaching out to Tobirama himself just to have someone to talk to while Izuna is gone, get out a little and stretch his legs rather than hiding away in the house like he thinks Izuna will punish him for leaving.

First and foremost, figure out what’s wrong with his body and try to fix it.

Izuna deserves better than this. He deserves better than Madara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had a really great weekend that massively threw off my regular posting but we're back to normal now hopefully~
> 
> izuna's about to have a very interesting rut.
> 
> also toyed with the idea of showing the conversation madara and tajima had but i'm not ready to tell you the full backstory yet~


	15. Chapter 15

Kagami greets Izuna at the door, a hand already folded delicately around his nose despite the broad smile on his face. “Izuna-chan, you  _ never _ come visit enough, and now you come to see me and you smell this bad? I hardly think that’s in any way fair.”

“I’ve been busy.” Izuna shifts his bag on his shoulder, already feeling the pull back home, the pull back to Madara’s side. “And I love you, Kagami, I love you  _ so _ much but I really do not need to hear this right now. I need to go… Lay down and take care of business.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. You don’t look too good right now.” Kagami cocks his head but otherwise says nothing, taking Izuna by the elbow and leading him down the hallway.

The guest bedroom has been aired out, but Izuna can still detect a slight staleness in the air that in no way lessens the erection straining painfully against the front seam of his jeans. Kagami closes the door behind him and Izuna throws himself on the bed without care, reaching for his zipper and yanking it down. Waking up in Madara’s nest on the very edge of his rut and not even  _ realizing _ it because Madara was gone and he felt like he needed to go check on him— Izuna is not going to make it. He just isn’t.

How are they supposed to live together when his reactions are this pronounced?

A soft wheeze leaves his throat as he gets his jeans and boxers down enough to make a grab for his cock. The skin is hot to the touch and so hard, but Izuna hardly gives a shit as he squeezes his eyes shut. He can still smell Madara on his clothes, on his skin.

Madara, who for everything in the world looked like he didn’t want Izuna to leave.

“Nii-san,” Izuna rasps, his free hand twisting in the comforter beneath him as he bucks up into his own fist. He should feel bad. He does, distantly, barely aware of it. Instinct clings too tightly to the pretty, soft omega waiting back home for him in his den.

His omega, the omega he had to leave when he should have dragged him back to bed.

Thinking about Madara when he’s touching himself is wrong, and he knows that. His sweet brother deserves so much better but his hindbrain refuses to budge, and for the first time, Izuna is fully in tune with it. Absolutely Madara is his. Living in his house, nesting in his den, inviting Izuna to lie down with him every night, saying he needs him there.

Madara needs him, so why the hell is Izuna so far away from him right now?

“Fuck.” Izuna drags a hand over his face, fingers clawing at the collar of his shirt as he drags his fingers through the mess of pre-come slicking the head of his cock.

Pretty Madara with his soft lips and dark eyes who needs to be treasured and cherished.

His mind forces him to wander back to laundry day and the sweet, heavy scent of omega slick on Madara’s yukata and his blanket. Forces him to think about Madara touching himself with careful fingers because of the bruises, and Izuna snarls at nothing because no one should ever touch his omega like that. No one should ever hurt Madara.

He thinks about long fingers nudging their way into a tight, slick hole and strokes himself faster. Thinks about Madara throwing his head back as he touches himself, maybe teasing his cock a little, rubbing up just inside where it feels the best. Maybe baring his throat, wishing Izuna would come and sink his teeth in and fill him to the brim.

A fantasy spins its way out of nothing, and Izuna doesn’t try to stop it.

_ “Nii-san?” The soft whimpers spilling from inside the room have Izuna reaching for the door handle, prepared to barge his way inside. What if his brother is having a nightmare? _

_ “Izuna…” The soft exhalation sparks something hot in his blood and he pushes the door open because Madara is calling for him, and that means he has to answer. _

_ The sight that greets him sears deep into his flesh, burning him from the inside out. Madara is stretched out in his nest, thighs spread wide, both of his hands occupied between them. Izuna can smell his slick on the air, can see the fingers he has working slowly inside of himself as his other hand touches his cock. Madara is absolutely flawless from head to toe, panting and trembling, flushed all the way down to his chest. Even his nipples are hard, and Izuna wonders if he’s been touching them, too. _

_ He shudders and closes the door behind him, sealing them into the quiet, sweetly-scented room. “Nii-san?” He wants to come closer and touch, but not if Madara tells him not to. _

_ Madara whimpers at him, rolling his hips down against his fingers. Izuna almost short circuits at the sight. “Otouto, please. I need more, I c-can’t— It’s not enough.” _

_ “What do you want me to do?” He wants to do everything, his eyes fixed on Madara’s cunt, on where he’s stretched open wet around his own fingers. God, he’s so beautiful. _

_ “Please touch me.” Madara slowly pulls his fingers free, and Izuna can see the slick on them, glistening in the low light of the room. “I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.” _

_ Never. Izuna walks slowly to the nest, catching Madara by the wrist so he can draw his fingers up to his mouth. He can’t stop himself, tongue darting out to taste the slick on Madara’s fingers, groaning at the sweet, tart taste. Of course Madara tastes better than any omega could ever hope to, and it makes Izuna’s cock stiffen. Madara whimpers up at him, shivering when Izuna gives his long fingers a tentative suck. _

_ “You taste amazing.” There are truly no words to describe his brother, but what else is new there? “Do you want me to touch you, taste you? I can eat you out, Nii-san.” _

_ Would be more than happy to just settle between his thighs and lap lazily at his cunt for hours, drowning himself in Madara’s slick until he can’t smell or taste anything else. _

_ “Please.” The soft plea goes straight to his cock, and Izuna climbs into the nest. _

_ He slips his hands under the hem of his shirt and pulls it up over his head, tossing it at the foot of the nest before he climbs up between Madara’s legs. His breath catches when Madara spreads them wider for him, soft and inviting as he peers up at Izuna from beneath long, dark lashes. So perfect and beautiful that Izuna can’t resist leaning up the length of his body, fingers sinking into the mattress beside his ribcage. _

_ “Can I kiss you?” He wants to. Wants to sink into Madara’s mouth and devour him. _

_ A groan slips from his throat when Madara wets his lips, pretty pink tongue sliding across them in a quick little dart of anticipation. “Alpha,” Madara whispers, and Izuna leans in. _

_ Madara’s lips are softer than Izuna could have imagined, yielding against his insistent kisses and the wet sweep of his own tongue. His fingers dig into the sheets when he curls his tongue against Madara’s, coaxing him into kissing back, into not being so shy with him. Poor, sweet omega needs to be reminded that Izuna wants him to be affectionate. _

_ If he had his way, he would keep Madara in his arms all day long. _

_ “I’ve wanted to kiss you for years.” Izuna leans back to take a breath and then swoops in again, burying his hesitation and reluctance and idiocy in the slow, passionate kisses he gives his brother. “I shouldn’t have ever waited. Should have taken you when I went into rut the first time. You were going to crawl right into my bed with me.” _

_ Madara blushes and squirms beneath him, and Izuna laughs softly, completely besotted with how sweet he is. “I didn’t know. You just… You smelled so good.” _

_ “Not as good as you do right now, and you aren’t even in heat.” What is Izuna going to do when Madara is in heat, when the entire house is drenched in sweet, fuckable omega asking to be bred? “But when you do go into heat, I’ll be there to give you everything you want.” _

_ “Even pups?” The way Madara looks up at him breaks something inside of him, but not as hard as it breaks his brain to imagine Madara warm and heavy with his pups, his stomach rounding as they grow inside of him. Tiny little things, half of him and half of Madara, small and helpless and needing their guidance and unconditional love. _

_ “Yes.” Izuna’s voice is rough and he hides it with more kisses, settling himself down against Madara’s body, the heat of his skin soaking through Izuna’s jeans. _

_ Even pups. Especially pups. He could keep Madara wrapped around his knot for days on end. _

_ His lips brush against the side of Madara’s throat and he teases his teeth against his scent gland, imagining it opening up under his canines. Imagining the slight tang of copper on his tongue and the soul-deep squeeze of Madara’s heart pressing tight against his. He wants that, too, to mate Madara. To have him in every way that matters, mind, body and soul. To be the alpha who loves him the way he’s always deserved to be loved. _

_ Madara arches his throat, baring it to him, and Izuna nibbles at the thin skin but not enough to break it. Later, when Madara is in heat, Izuna will mark him as his own. _

_ He trails his kisses down Madara’s chest, fingers toying with his nipples only to be followed by his tongue. Every single flick and curl of his tongue around the sensitive little buds has Madara squirming and whining beneath him, and Izuna’s cock throbs at how sensitive he is, how responsive. His cute brother, his precious omega, responding to his mouth, his touch. _

_ “You’re so beautiful.” Izuna can’t help himself, lavishing praise on Madara as he pets a hand over his belly. His hindbrain imagines it round under his fingers, skin stretched taut as tiny little feet kick at his fingers from the inside. “I want to hear every single noise you make for me, Nii-san. I don’t want you to hold anything inside, okay?” _

_ “Yes, Alpha.” Madara closes his eyes and Izuna lets him, kissing over his belly, stupidly imagining him bred again. Sweeter-smelling and letting Izuna cover him in kisses. _

_ His fingers stroke through coarse dark curls as he strokes the small shaft of Madara’s cock. He’s just as hard as Izuna is and he can’t help himself, running his tongue over the head just to watch Madara writhe and listen to him whine. So pretty, so precious, so needy and how could anyone ever hurt him? How could any alpha not want to fall to their knees in worship at the sight of him flushed and panting and begging for more? _

_ “Do you like being touched like this?” Izuna asks him, kissing the side of his shaft and smiling when Madara nods, little jerks of his head. “Good. I love touching you like this.” _

_ He wraps his lips around Madara’s cock, laving it with his tongue as he palms the slight curve of Madara’s hip. Little choked moans fill the air above his head, audible above the wet sound of his sucking, but Izuna only drinks it all in. His free hand wanders between his own legs, the heel of his hand pressing down hard against his cock. There is nothing more he wants to do than to sink into Madara’s cunt, but not yet. He’s here to make his brother come, promising he’d help, and he’s intending to do just that. _

_ When he slips his mouth from around Madara’s cock, there’s spit running down from the corner of his mouth. He should be embarrassed, drooling over his brother like this. “Can I eat you out, Nii-san? You have such a gorgeous pussy and I just want to taste it.” _

_ “Please.” Madara’s hand slips into his hair, guiding him down, and Izuna goes happily. _

_ Madara’s folds are soaked and shiny, and Izuna nuzzles against them before dipping his tongue out to taste. Slick coats his tongue and he moans loudly and shamelessly, palming Madara’s thighs as he buries his head between them. How can anyone be so sweet, so hot, so perfect? His brother is surely the most desirable omega in the entire world. _

_ “Otouto,” Madara whines, arching down against his face, and Izuna stops wasting time. _

_ He strokes Madara’s thighs before digging his fingers into them, feeling warm skin and strong muscle against his palms as he licks into the sweet well of his pussy. The rim of his entrance squeezes around Izuna’s tongue, warm wet walls rippling as he presses his tongue in as deep as he can. Just like he thought, he could stay right here forever. _

_ “You taste so good.” He’s drunk on the taste of his brother’s body. He doesn’t even want to think about leaving this room, this nest, this moment. Doesn’t want to think about ever even touching another omega who isn’t Madara. “How can you taste so good?” _

_ Madara groans and Izuna presses his face back against him, shoving his tongue as deep as he can get it. His body is so wet like he’s in heat, like he’s ready for Izuna to slip his cock inside of him and give him the litter of pups he wants so badly. But not yet. Not right now. Right now, Izuna just wants to devour him, to leave him quaking with it. _

_ “Omega, you’re so good to me.” He palms Madara’s cock as he licks at his folds, sucking the wetness off of them until Madara keens. “Letting me taste you like this, trusting me. You’re so good, baby, I just want to take care of you and make you feel so good.” _

_ “You do, you do, Alpha, you do.” Madara reaches for him and Izuna grips his hands tight as he presses his mouth against Madara’s pussy, determined to make him come this time. _

_ He’s beautiful when he orgasms, his back bowing off of the mattress, his thighs snapping tight to Izuna’s head and nearly crushing it. The pressure makes Izuna’s cock throb painfully but all he does is watch his brother come for him, because of him, against his mouth, drenching his lips and chin. And Izuna happily licks him clean, not sure he could ever get enough of Madara’s taste and his pleasure and the beautiful sweet trust he’s gifted. _

_ He climbs up Madara’s body to kiss him, cupping Madara’s face in his hands. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much.” He’s shaking with how much he means it. “I love you, Nii-san.” _

_ Madara’s hips roll lazily up against his, soaking the front of his jeans in omega slick. “Izuna.” Madara nuzzles up against his jaw, teeth nipping at his skin. “You said something about pups? I want your knot, otouto. Please, I just want it. I want you.” _

_ How could he ever deny Madara anything that he wants? Izuna reaches for his zipper— _

And wails pitifully when he comes, spilling hot and slick over his own fingers as his body writhes against the mattress beneath him. White stains his shirt and his jeans and he keeps coming, choking and groaning and biting back Madara’s name because he doesn’t want Kagami to hear. He spasms and shakes and feels like he’s  _ dying _ before it stops, hand sliding down to cup around his knot and massage the slight stiffness from his skin.

What the fuck was that? How is Izuna supposed to get through his whole rut like this?

He nearly panics when he realizes that he is nowhere near Madara’s nest, nowhere near the warmth of his body and his touch. But it isn’t hard to remember where he is because he can small Kagami in the air— totally unappealing, sweet scent cloying and thick in Izuna’s throat and nothing like Madara’s savory-sweetness. Isn’t hard to remember that he had to leave home because he thought he might jump Madara at the earliest opportunity.

Izuna is fucked. He is so fucked. How can he go home when he feels like this? How can he ever look Madara in the eyes again after fantasizing about licking his pussy, and coming so hard from it that he might have just ruined his clothes?

His hand drops to the mattress and he wheezes, aware of the come drying cool on his stomach and shirt and absolutely uncaring as he stares up at the ceiling. Madara, flushed and warm beneath him, fingers in his hair, thighs crushing his head… Madara, who did not want him to leave. Who kept looking away from him, who hid his hands behind his back like he used to as a child when Tajima made him mad and his hands twisted into fists.

_ He wanted me to stay, _ he thinks, and has no idea what to do with this information. Madara just wanted him to stay because it was his house. Madara was going to leave—

Unless Izuna asked him to stay. Unless Izuna told him he wanted him to stay, and then…

“Stop,” he tells himself, screwing his eyes shut and trying in vain to stop thinking about how pretty Madara looked fresh out of his nest, rumpled in his pajamas and so pretty. Like he’d have gone soft in Izuna’s arms, let himself be carried back to bed. “ _ Stop it. _ ”

He wants to go home, tuck his face in against Madara’s throat and confess, but he knows better than that. So he’s going to ride out his rut until his brain feels like it can operate on literally any human level, and then he’ll go home and try to make sense of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> until i can feed my crippling addiction of izuna lovingly knotting his brother, he's just going to have to fantasize about it.
> 
> also over 1000 hits? and so many kudos. thank you guys so much for the support! and a special thank you to all who take the time to comment, i really do love getting to chat with you guys.


	16. Chapter 16

Hours after arriving at Kagami’s apartment, Izuna drags himself out of the bedroom changed into something less soaked with his sweat and rut pheromones. Nothing would stop him from holing up in bed with a few water bottles nearby to stay hydrated, but lying in there with fantasies of Madara is going to kill him. He might rip his own dick off from the frustration, and then he might bleed to death. Who would watch over Madara then?

Kagami is on the couch, console controller in hand and eyes fixed on the television screen. “You smell worse than when you went in there. Are you feeling any better now?”

“Not really.” Izuna takes a chair, not wanting to get too close to Kagami right now. His scent is no less cloying, no less not what Izuna wants. “I should have just choked down the repressors for a few days and called it good. They’ve worked in a pinch before.”

“Why were you in a pinch this time? What’s been going on?” Kagami pauses his game, dropping his controller into his lap. “I mean, other than what I already know from Tobirama and Tajima-ojisan. I think they’ve told me all the main points of the story.”

Izuna wrinkles his nose. “Tobirama told you? Since when do you talk to Tobirama?”

“Since… A while? You dragged him to our family Christmas party two years ago and he looked like he wanted to die the entire time, so I went to talk to him.” Kagami shrugs a shoulder, reaching down into a cooler at his feet to take out a bottle of water. He tosses it lightly to Izuna, and Izuna still almost misses it. His hands are shaking. “Did you just forget because Madara-nii is at the house? I know you’ve been taking care of him.”

It takes all of Izuna’s focus to open the bottle of water, and he still almost sloshes it down his shirt tipping it up to take a sip. “Something like that. It just snuck up on me.”

“Is it early? Late?” When Izuna shakes his head, Kagami only frowns at him.

“He’s been going through a rough couple of days now that Otousama knows about. Well.” Izuna tips his head back. No desire to say the bastard’s name right now, not when his hindbrain is still badgering him to go home and be with Madara. Thinking of the alpha who hurt him might set him to snarling, and with no one to take it out on, he’ll go crazy.

Kagami clears his throat, and Izuna twists his neck around to look at him, wincing at the way it pops. “Ugh, gross. Is Madara okay? I haven’t been by to see him because I kind of thought maybe he wanted space. At least Tobirama made it sound that way.”

“He’s…” Talking about it feels wrong, but Kagami is family, and there is no chance on this earth he would ever use this information to do anything but help in any way he can. “He’s really struggling to acclimate to just being an average person. His fear reactions are still extreme. I had to talk him into letting me touch the nape of his neck yesterday.”

This time, Kagami does not wince. He flinches back, his face twisting into an ugly expression that defies belief considering how naturally pretty he is. “Fuck Hashirama, then, how do you even make that scary? Touch me there and I just melt.”

“Most people do. But Nii-san is used to it hurting. Got his hair pulled a lot.” Which just the thought of makes Izuna bare his teeth at nothing and no one in response.

Kagami’s face softens. “Looks like it’s been rough on you, too.”

“Not as bad on me as it has been on him. I just want to help him, and I feel like I can’t even do that correctly.” At least Madara hasn’t diligently waited at home for Izuna to come punish him for something. “And then this happens and I have to leave him alone.”

“Does he smell so bad that you had to come here to ride out your rut?” Kagami raises an eyebrow at him, and Izuna… Shuts his mouth, because no, Madara doesn’t.

He doesn’t want to think about how sweet and welcoming he smelled, how he glowed, how his eyes softened for just a moment like he was prepared to open his arms and take Izuna up to his nest. Familial scents usually smell awful. Izuna was quarantined in his bedrooms during his ruts as a teenager because Tajima’s scent was enough to make him nauseous, so staying in his room as much as possible was a must just so he could stay sane.

Madara has never smelled bad to him. Madara always smells like Izuna would bury his face in his scent glands and live there, calm and peaceful and happy, for eternity.

“You’re about to lie to me.” Kagami points a stern finger at him, and Izuna throws his hands up into the air in self-defense. “Don’t you do it, Izuna. You owe me the truth.”

“Why do I owe you anything? I’m here because you owe me.” Because Kagami had a heat sneak up on him, and Izuna’s house was closer than his own. Letting him stay in the guest bedroom and watching over him was easily, something Izuna would do for any omega.

Something he knows he will have to do for Madara, but at least his next heat is a couple of months away so Izuna can prepare. He might need rut repressors for that. Might need to take something to dampen his sense of smell. And even that might not be enough to keep him from trying to tear his own skin off just to stop thinking about knotting his brother.

“Because you’re here stinking up the lovely apartment I just cleaned this morning.” Kagami picks up a bottle of water for himself and untwists the cap. “So tell me the truth, and you know I’ll know if you lie to me. You’ve never been good at lying to omegas.”

Izuna’s heart nearly stops beating. Does that mean Madara knows how he feels?

No, can’t be. No way. If Madara knew that Izuna was in love with him, he’d hate him for that, and he would have left by now. He never would have let Izuna into his bedroom, never would have let Izuna touch him when he was vulnerable. There is no way Madara knows.

“I…” Izuna rubs a hand over his mouth, smearing the excess water on his lips across his chin as he does. Mimicking Madara’s slick from his fantasy. “Kagami, I can’t tell you that.”

Kagami’s eyes narrow at him. “Since when? You used to confide everything in me.”

“That’s because Hikaku is a damn liar and will tell anyone who asks whatever you told him was a secret because he’s a bastard.” And after enough of his dirty little secrets were passed around the dinner table amongst the rest of the gossip, Izuna is  _ never _ trusting his eldest cousin again. Would not trust him as far as he could throw him, which is pretty far.

“Then tell  _ me, _ who has always kept your secrets.” Kagami fans the air in front of his face and coughs, and Izuna winces in sympathy. He knows it smells bad. He gets it. “Tell me because you obviously need to tell someone. You looked like you were going to hurl like five seconds ago, and believe me, if you did? You’d be the one cleaning it up.”

Fantastic. Maybe lying to Kagami is simply harder than it has any right to be. “I couldn’t be around Madara like this. In rut. I didn’t want to be in the same room as he was.”

“But he doesn’t smell bad, which you said. Which is weird, because we’re only cousins, and you smell like I just stuck my nose in a pepper. Hold on.” Kagami leaves him in the living room and slips out, and Izuna lets his head fall back against the couch and closes his eyes.

If he focuses on the backs of his eyelids, he can almost see the way Madara looked at him in the kitchen. Can almost remember the furtive glance he stole, the thought that… That Madara was asking him to stay after all, in the soft way he asked Izuna if being around him was a bother. As if it could ever be. Not him. Never him. It could  _ never _ be him.

He bites down hard on his lower lip. Well, there’s nothing he can do to convince Madara otherwise, and it makes him sad to know his brother might feel that way.

“Okay, here we go.” Kagami arrives back in the room, carrying what is definitely an oil diffuser that he sets on the coffee table and plugs in next to the couch. Soothing lavender fills the air. “Much better for me. Now, tell me what’s going on at your house.”

Izuna doesn’t know if he should. If he says it, then there is no taking it back. Someone else will know, and he might never recover. Or Kagami might hate him, think him a freak.

“You can’t judge me,” he says again. “You can’t hate me because you asked me to tell you.”

Kagami frowns at him. “Okay? Just tell me what’s going on with you, Izuna. I want to help if I can, but I can’t do that if you won’t let me in and tell me the truth.”

“All right. But like I said, you asked.” Izuna takes another sip of water to steady himself and wonders if he should come up with a lie on the spot, but… Maybe not shoving it all down in his gut and trying to rationalize it on his own will help in any way. “I’m… I love him.”

For a long moment, Kagami says nothing. Then, he sighs and falls back against the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes. “I hate you, you know that? All that dramatic shit and you’re just telling me you love your brother. Of course you love Madara.  _ I _ love Madara.”

Something sharp and possessive twists in Izuna’s gut, and he beats it back down the best he can. “No, you don’t understand. It’s… I don’t love him in a family way.”

“What?” Kagami shifts his arm slightly, peeking at Izuna from beneath it. “What way?”

“Did I ever tell you what happened during my first rut?” Izuna asks, and Kagami slowly shakes his head as he sits up, his expression hinting at… Something, though Izuna isn’t sure what. “I could smell Nii-san even though my door was shut. He was coming to bring me snacks and water because he’s an  _ angel. _ And there was nothing more that I wanted to do than rip the door off its hinges to get to him. I wanted to  _ be _ with him, Kagami.”

Dark eyes study his face, sharp and keen, as if searching for any lies. “Your first rut was when you were thirteen, Izuna. Like, I get it. You were all over the place, and—”

“No, that was just when I finally had to focus on what I was feeling and put a name to it. But I’d been feeling it probably longer than that.” And he doesn’t need to go into the jealous response to seeing Madara with Hashirama, even when they were children.

“Oh. Oh, so you’re… In  _ love _ with Madara-nii.” Kagami cups his chin in one hand, expression thoughtful, but at least he isn’t throwing Izuna out or calling him a sick freak about it. That’s probably the only saving grace of this terrifying moment. “So the reason you left—”

Izuna swallows so hard his throat hurts. “I know I could control myself around him. I’d never hurt him or push myself on him. Ever. He’s the most important person in the entire world to me, and there is absolutely nothing I would do to cause him pain.”

“I know that. I wasn’t going to accuse you of that.” Kagami’s face softens into something sad, and it makes Izuna’s stomach hurt. Don’t look at him like that. Not with pity.

“I just don’t want him to have to huff my pheromones for days when the last time he would have smelled them…” Izuna shudders. Bruises. Vaginal scarring. Madara  _ limping _ .

He cannot imagine how much it might have frightened him just to smell Izuna in that state, just to know that Izuna was in a constant state of arousal. Offering him any sort of comfort would have been impossible. His very presence might have made everything worse, and he just wants to curl up in a little ball and die at the thought of Madara being afraid of Izuna raping him. There’s nothing in the world Izuna would ever want to do less.

All he wants to do is make Madara happy. Make him smile. Teach him that touch doesn’t have to cause him pain, that warmth and love and comfort still exist in the world. That he’s deserving of them simply for existing, and not because he has to earn them.

Izuna isn’t aware he’s crying until Kagami’s hand touches his shoulder, the other rising to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to even talk about it and you don’t deserve to have to put up with this crybaby shit out of me.”

“You love him,” Kagami says, and Izuna whines and nods, shoving his head into his hands. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m not mad at you. And you’re just upset because you feel like you can’t do right by him, right? And you’ve been doing so much to take care of him.”

“It never feels like enough.” And it never feels like the love Izuna wants to give him. The love that Madara would reject, or possibly become fearful of.

Kagami hushes him softly and sits on the ground in front of him, patting Izuna on the knee until Izuna looks down at him through his fingers. “You’ve done more than enough from what it sounds like. Tobirama says you’re barely in the office because you’ve been spending so much time just trying to help Madara-nii. Ojisan said that, too, you know.”

Tajima said that? About  _ him? _ “I just… I love him so much, Kagami, it hurts.”

“Have you thought about telling him?” Kagami twists around to pick up the box of tissues on the table, offering it to Izuna. He yanks a handful out, trying to mop his face with them. “I mean, probably not, but Madara-nii wouldn’t hate you for it. He loves you.”

“I’d feel so bad putting it on him when he’s already dealing with so much.” Izuna blows his nose, feeling pitiful and childish for how much he’s been pitying himself like this.

Kagami touches his hand. “Don’t you think that knowing the person he cares about most in this world loves him so much might do something good for him? Might help him a little?”

“Or it might make everything worse, and he might never trust me again.” And then Izuna will lose him, but this time forever. And the thought of that makes him want to die.

“I doubt it.” Kagami sighs up at him. “You know I can’t force you to do it, but you should.”

Izuna laughs, a humorless sound that sticks in his throat. “And if he hates me and I never see him again? I was already dying when Hashirama was keeping him locked up in his fucking house like a prisoner. I don’t think I can go through something like that again.”

“You really underestimate Madara’s reaction if you think he’s just going to push you away and never want to see you again.” Kagami reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, giving Izuna a gentle squeeze. Even if he smells atrocious right now, his calming omega scent is at least appreciated. “I’m not going to force you and of course I’m not going to tell him, but you should talk to him when your rut is over and you have time.”

“I’m just scared to lose him. It was one thing when he was just… When he was close but we didn’t talk.” Izuna hiccups softly and rubs tissues against his face. “He’s been living in my house. I’ve seen him every single day. I can’t go back to not seeing him ever again.”

Kagami scoffs at him. “Okay, look, he won’t push you away. He  _ won’t. _ Just talk to him. Tell him something, if you’re not ready for the full confession. Just anything.”

“I just love him so much.” Izuna curls inward and Kagami leans up to hug him, patting him on the back while he buries his face against Kagami’s shoulder. At least he can’t smell him as deeply while he’s crying like a fucking child. “He’s so brave and strong and he’s getting a little better every day, and I swear I’ve never— Never slept so well in his nest. He’s so warm, he’s so  _ sweet, _ he just deserves the best alpha. The alpha who could love him and cherish him and do everything for him. Not someone who beats him and makes him cry.”

His cousin sighs softly against his ear. “And that’s you, isn’t it? The alpha who would be able to love him most in the entire world is you, Izuna-chan. Haven’t you already proven that, pulling out all the stops for him? Moving him in just to take care of him?”

“I don’t know.” But he does know, in his heart. No one will ever love Madara as much or as fully as he does, not in this life or the next. Not like he can.

Kagami’s fingers slip up to the nape of his neck and Izuna sags against him. “Well, listening to you blubber on like this has pretty much convinced me of that. Come on, wipe your face off and we can order pizza. And just… Think about telling him, okay? Just think about it.”

Izuna doesn’t tell Kagami that he has been thinking about it, just nodding and letting his cousin help him wipe the wetness off of his face before it can get worse.

There’s nothing else he wants in this world more than he wants to love Madara, but he just doesn’t think that’s going to happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an early morning/afternoon update for you guys~
> 
> also! if you would like to chat with me, i have a twitter account now! the account is locked when i am not currently online for safety reasons, but i am [@shotamadara](https://twitter.com/shotamadara) and will approve follower requests (as well as follow back!)


	17. Chapter 17

“It’s beyond me how you can tolerate living with him for any length of time, much less just move in with him,” Tobirama says, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe while Madara fusses with his the shape of his nest for the fourth time in as many hours.

“You two still don’t get along?” Madara pauses to glance over his shoulder at him, watching Tobirama shrug and take a sip of his tea. “I don’t understand how you run a business if you two don’t even like each other. Don’t you have to, like… Talk to each other constantly?”

Tobirama hums. “We do, but luckily someone has been distracting him enough that he seems to miss half of my barbs. It’s nice to not have every conversation devolve into an argument, believe me. And yes, I know I could just stop baiting him, but I don’t want to.”

Madara rolls his eyes and returns to fluffing his nest, his hands too nervous for him to remain idle while Izuna is gone. He thought he might be okay at first and was ready to call people to come over after reassuring Tajima that everything was fine, he simply didn’t need to leave the house because Izuna did first. Then his emotions about the situation kicked in fully, and the thought that Izuna walked out the door instead of staying here with him started to eat at him. Why would he leave? What did Madara do wrong?

Maybe the nest wasn’t good enough for him, which is why Madara is trying to fix it now with the hope that Izuna might come back. Even though he knows that would be bad for both of them, he wants Izuna back home where he can check on him and take care of him.

“Not that I mind him not being at the office so much,” Tobirama says, and the quiet, careful tone of his voice has Madara glancing at him curiously.

“That’s because of me, I know,” he admits. His stomach feels funny saying it out loud, but he knows that being with Izuna has caused changes in his life. Even on days when Izuna does go into the office, he usually doesn’t stay the full day anymore. “I’m sorry.”

Tobirama shakes his head, stepping into the room after he seems sure that Madara isn’t going to snap at him for daring to cross the boundary of the doorway. “You don’t have to be, Madara. I’m not begrudging you needing your brother here to help you heal.”

“But I shouldn’t keep him away from work so much.” That Izuna does work when he’s home just by slipping into his office is neither here nor there. He has an office to go to.

“But you need him,” Tobirama counters, and Madara whines softly because yes, he does. Izuna is the foundation that has kept him from spiraling, his kindness and gentleness a rock that Madara so desperately needs. “And he does better work from home than he does at the office. I presume because he’s here with you and is far more settled in.”

Madara clicks his tongue. “It still feels like I shouldn’t be so unnecessarily needy.”

“Is it unnecessary if you need it?” Tobirama asks, and Madara ducks his head, smoothing another pillow into place. He has to make the nest better. Alpha would have stayed.

A soft weight on the bed has him turning to see Tobirama perching carefully at the foot of it, not disturbing the structure Madara always has in place and not quite close enough to invade the nest. “But I shouldn’t need it. I should just be able to function.”

“From what Izuna has let on, Ani-ja didn’t exactly make it easy for you to function outside of the structure he built for you to function within.” When Madara glances up at him warily, Tobirama holds up his free hand, palm out. Harmless, which he knows, but… “My apologies if merely mentioning him is enough to upset you. I wasn’t thinking about that.”

Madara looks back down at his nest, then slumps into the pillows and blankets with a sigh, nuzzling his face against the soft fabrics. “It’s fine. I need to get used to remembering that he exists, anyway. Prison or not, I can’t just pretend that he never did.”

“Just remember that he can never reach you again, and thus can never put his hands on you.” Tobirama offers a hand to him and Madara takes it gratefully, half-crawling across the bed to his side. Beta scents are calming, and Tobirama’s is no different.

He doesn’t mean to sprawl out with his head in Tobirama’s lap but he does, whimpering softly when Tobirama oh-so-gently combs his fingers through Madara’s hair. “I just… I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Even Izuna leaving for his rut is bothering me now.”

“Understandable. It’s difficult not having him here when you’re so used to his presence in the house.” Tobirama’s fingers settle against the curve of his jaw and Madara closes his eyes, taking in the sharp tang of sea salt and brine, of the wind rolling in off of the ocean. It’s been a long time since he saw Tobirama. “He’s an alpha as well. I’m sure that makes him a source of comfort for you, as he would likely register as a protective force.”

Protective force hardly covers the bases Izuna has been dancing through the last few weeks, but Madara would rather agree to that than mention the word  _ mate. _ But his body and his hindbrain are attached to the idea now, as if daring to think about it once was enough to make it impossible for him to truly never think about again.

Izuna in his dreams, holding him, touching him, worshipping him. Izuna looking at him in the kitchen for just a moment like all he wanted to do was stay, and Madara wanted him to.

He doesn’t know what he would have done if Izuna stayed. It was better that he left.

“Otouto does the best he can for me and I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he says, and Tobirama pats him gently on the cheek. “But I don’t know if… I… Tobirama, I don’t—”

“If there’s something you want to say, you can say it.” Tobirama shifts, and Madara watches him drain the rest of his tea before leaning down to set the cup on the floor out of reach. “You obviously called me over here because you needed company, but I think there’s more to it than that. Did you pick me over family for a reason?”

Did he? Madara doesn’t know. He could have asked Tajima to come over, because certainly he offered when Madara explained the situation, but he chose Tobirama instead. Part of it is simply that he wanted to see him again, because Hashirama kept him away and Madara always liked his sharp mind and his attitude. Liked that he never let anyone walk over him and always stood up against alphas who tried, but… Tobirama is right. He isn’t family.

Madara squeezes his eyes shut. “I made a mistake,” he says softly. “A really bad one.”

Tobirama makes a small, soothing noise down at him. “Don’t say it like that. Just tell me what you wanted to get off your chest, and if I can help you, then I’ll try.”

“You can help me by swearing to never, ever tell him what I’m about to tell you.” Izuna would make him leave. Izuna would send him away, maybe under the guise of kindness, and Madara doesn’t want to be forced to leave. He will, on his own time, but not with Izuna hating him and never wanting to see him again. Just… Comfortable, safe distance.

But not right now. Not when he feels like it would destroy him not to be near Izuna.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll give you my word that I won’t.” Tobirama cups his face, tilting his head, and Madara forces himself to open his eyes so that he’s looking up at his brother’s business partner. “Tell me, Madara. Get it off your chest so you can breathe.”

He drags his teeth over his lower lip and sighs, pushing himself up slowly and ignoring the desire to crawl into his nest and hide away. “I’ve been thinking about him as… More than a brother, Tobirama. I’ve been thinking about him like he’s an alpha.  _ My _ alpha.”

Silence from the other end of the bed leaves him terrified that Tobirama is going to level any number of insults at him for saying that, but none come. Instead, Tobirama shifts again, and Madara squeaks softly when gentle hands catch him by the shoulders and draw him back. He isn’t expecting the embrace that follows, not from Tobirama at least.

“And that’s all right.” Tobirama hugs him gently from behind and Madara trills softly at him, not understanding what he means. “Believe me, Izuna isn’t going to be angry with you if you tell him that. He’s probably been desperately wanting that his whole life.”

_ What? _ Madara looks over his shoulder at Tobirama, brows drawing together as he tries to figure out what Tobirama could mean by that. “Izuna would be furious if he knew that.”

“No, he wouldn’t be. You have no idea how much you’ve missed over the years, but I can’t fault you for that when you were trailing after Ani-ja.” The tone of Tobirama’s voice shifts and lightens, and Madara frowns. Miss something? What could he possibly have missed?

He turns to look at Tobirama properly, though only partially because he doesn’t want to pull himself free of the comfort offered. He’s weak for it. “What did I miss?”

“The fact that Izuna’s looked at you like you hung the moon and stars ever since the two of you were children.” Tobirama raises an eyebrow at him, but Madara only cocks his head. Not understanding. Refusing to understand. “Izuna’s in love with you, Madara. I think he always has been. At least, I don’t remember a time when I thought he wasn’t. But like I said, you met Ani-ja, and you probably didn’t notice anything else at that point.”

“Was I that oblivious?” He doesn’t touch what Tobirama said, not yet, not right now. Not when… Izuna can’t. He just can’t. There is absolutely no way he could feel like that.

Not about Madara. Madara is the one who’s fucked with his head, not… No.

Tobirama nods, combing his fingers through the ends of Madara’s hair, curling it gently and letting it rest in loose ringlets against his shoulder. “You were. But like I said, I don’t blame you. I don’t even think anyone else noticed. I just picked up on little things.”

“Izuna isn’t… He can’t be. That doesn’t make sense.” Why would he be? What could Madara possibly have to offer him, especially now when he’s so broken that no one may ever be able to put the pieces back together again? “I’m the one who’s making his instincts surge up all over the place. It’s my fault. Izuna’s never… He can’t. Why would he feel that way?”

“Why wouldn’t he? What could any other omega ever offer him that you can’t, twice over?” Tobirama challenges him, but Madara shakes his head. No. Izuna would be better with anyone else, anyone stable, anyone who could be selfless and love him properly.

“Any other omega wouldn’t need him to constantly sleep in their nest with them because they’d be able to handle having him gone. Even for a few days, even for his rut.” Madara ignores the tightness in his throat, the dampness in his eyes. “Any other omega wouldn’t have a breakdown every time they made a mistake because they thought… Izuna would never hurt me and I still thought he would. I expected him to do it.”

“Izuna would sooner die than ever put his hands on you,” Tobirama says softly.

Madara whines and tries to curl into himself, but Tobirama’s hold on him only tightens and keeps him just where he is. “It’s me. He doesn’t love me. I just, he can’t control himself because of me. I’m too damaged for him to just be able to have a normal life.”

“How could it be you when he’s always felt this way about you?” Tobirama’s fingers slip under his chin and tilt his head up once more, and Madara keens softly at him. Softening only a little when Tobirama croons in answer, not an alpha’s response but at least soothing. “You think this is recent? You think he just happened to still be a bachelor? Izuna is an attractive alpha. Even I would be forced to admit that given the attention he garners.”

Of course Izuna is attractive. He’s not built broad and strong like most alphas, built with all lean muscle, but he’s gorgeous. Sharp and dangerous and lovely, fast and strong and more than capable of protecting any omega that he should ever need to shield. It’s why Madara feels so safe with him, coupled with knowing Izuna would kill for him.

“He’s picky,” Madara says, but even that defense sounds weak on his tongue.

“You’re right,” Tobirama agrees, and Madara eyes him warily as long fingers card through his hair once more. “There’s only one omega in this entire world for him, and if a potential suitor is not that omega, he doesn’t even care. If it’s not you, it doesn’t even matter.”

It should not have Madara nearly purring to imagine Izuna wanting only him, finding every other omega lacking if they are not him. “Why would he feel that way? I don’t understand.”

“You’re asking the wrong person, as someone who isn’t romantically attached to anyone at the moment.” Tobirama pats him on the back and lets Madara lean heavily into his arms. “But I know how he feels. I see it in his eyes every time he looks at you. I hear it in his voice every time he talks about you. You’re the beginning and the end of his world.”

Madara’s heart flutters at the thought and he remembers every small, indulgent little thing Izuna has done for him. Every invitation extended, every request granted, every small touch and brush of skin to skin. Is it possible? Could it ever be?

“But he left,” he protests. “He left to stay at Kagami’s for his rut. He didn’t stay with me.”

Tobirama sighs softly and shakes his head. “Izuna has spent the better part of a decade or more not telling you how he feels presumably because he’s certain you would never return those feelings. Of course he didn’t stay. He didn’t know that he could.”

“I didn’t want him to leave. I…” Madara swallows hard at the memory and his face burns, but the scent of Izuna’s skin right there in his nest is hard to forget. “I was really going to jump him right here. Because I woke up and he smelled so wonderful.”

When Tobirama makes a high, thin noise in his throat, Madara laughs softly. “I’ll never understand how rut smells to you all. Izuna just smells like bad spicy food to me when he drags his ass into the office at the wrong time of the month.”

“He does smell peppery, but it’s wonderful.” Madara rubs at his eyes, wiping away the excess moisture that threatens to blur his vision. “I’m so afraid. What if I don’t really feel this way about him? What if it’s just me, fucked up in every way possible, and I confess and give him this false hope? I couldn’t imagine breaking his heart like that.”

“I think it’s more likely that you do feel this way, and that you’re holding yourself back because you think he deserves better.” Tobirama gives him a look and Madara ducks his head, because that’s true. Izuna does deserve better than the mess he is right now.

But if Tobirama is right, then Izuna doesn’t want anyone else. He’s not going to want anyone else. And if he’s wrong… Madara doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know.

Tobirama pulls Madara in against his chest and he goes thankfully, letting himself be held and reminding himself that it’s okay to be held. That there are people in his life who do care about him. “Call me an idiot, but I just want you two to be happy. And if this has been anything to go by, I’d say that what makes you both the happiest is each other.”

“He does make me happy.” Madara can barely remember his first day in the house without his stomach fluttering helplessly. All the gentle touches and reassurances, the food, washing his hair, letting him nest… Izuna’s sweetness, his kindness.

Izuna is everything the perfect alpha wishes he could be. Izuna is at the pinnacle.

“I know he does.” Tobirama rubs his back and Madara closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled into the comfort and warmth that Tobirama offers him. Needing it right now when he feels so unbalanced. “You’re allowed to love him, Madara. You’re allowed to want that for yourself, especially when he’s been offering it for years.”

“You know, I’m surprised you can talk about it in such a blase fashion considering he’s my little brother.” Even Madara can hardly think of it like that.

Tobirama huffs down into his hair. “I’ve had a decade to get used to the idea. Besides, it’d be nice to see the two of you happy instead of watching Izuna miserably drag himself to work every time he comes into the office because he’s sad over you.”

“I don’t want him to be sad.” He wants Izuna to be at home with him, in his nest… And whatever comes after that, Madara isn’t certain. He just needs to be close to him again.

“Then tell him that. Not me.” Tobirama kisses the top of his head, and Madara chirps up at him. “What? You know I actually  _ like _ you. I thought… Anyway, get your nest settled and think about what I said. And hurry up, because you said you were making dinner.”

Madara laughs softly and nods, sitting up and stretching. “Thank you, Tobirama. Really.”

“Of course.” Tobirama smiles softly at him, a rare sight. “We’re family as far as I’m concerned. I just want you to be happy.”

_ Happy. _ Maybe he can be happy again, if it’s with Izuna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feeling extra inspired today~ so you get a second update!
> 
> said it in the last chapter but i'll post it here too! my twitter handle is [@shotamadara](https://twitter.com/shotamadara) so if you'd like to talk or just peruse my TL (where i talk about all manner of dirty things) then feel free to send a follower request!


	18. Chapter 18

His hand twists in the sheets beneath him as he strokes his cock, mouth opened around loud, desperate panting. The ceiling above him is blurred by his half-closed lashes and unfocused vision, attention focused on the pressure coiling in his gut as his fingers squeeze rhythmically around his shaft. Izuna is going to have a crick in his wrist for a few days, but it’s well worth it to soothe even a modicum of the need burning through his veins.

It isn’t enough, and it won’t be. An alpha’s rut is only soothed by the presence of an omega they view as theirs, and Izuna has no one even close to that right now. Kagami is family but Kagami is not  _ mate _ and so Izuna grits his teeth against the need and bears it back down.

He just needs to come one more time, and he can sleep, even if only for a few hours.

His nerves are thrumming, every shift against the sheets, every buck up into his slick fist, every twitch of his thighs registering harsher and heavier in his gut. So close, so  _ close, _ and then he can rest. Will probably pass out covered in come again, but it could be worse.

Should have taken the damned repressors and stayed home with Madara—

The sound barely registers at first, the vibrations pronounced against the wood of the nightstand. Izuna twists his head toward the device for a moment, eyes narrowed, because who would be calling this late? It’s after three in the morning. Even Kagami is asleep.

Better not be Tobirama. Better not be some bullshit late night work emergency.

Izuna tightens his cock to keep himself hard, hissing at the strain as he leans over to pick up his phone. Vibrating still, because a phone call instead of a text message, so he needs to reject it outright. Trying to talk with his wrecked and ruined voice will be impossible, especially when his fingers are already twitching and trembling, wanting to move again. Need to come, need to sleep, but— And then his eyes register the name on the too-bright screen, his heart cramming itself up into his throat until it chokes him.

_ Madara. _ No. There is absolutely no way Madara is calling him this late at night.

He grits his teeth and slams his head back into the pillow behind him, because he has to reject this phone call and he knows it. Even with Kagami’s words from today lingering in his mind, the thought of talking to Madara right now makes him want to curl up and hide. There is an edge of desire there, too, to hear his omega’s voice while he’s masturbating, to talk to him, because Madara would not be calling this late without a reason.

Maybe something’s wrong. Izuna smashes the Accept button without hesitation, dragging it across his screen so hard he fears shattering the glass beneath the force of his touch.

“Nii-san?” His voice is breathy and strained, but it’s the best he can do.

Silence on the other end of the line ramps his anxiety up so harshly that Izuna barely contains a worried whine. But Madara speaks, finally.  _ “I’m… Sorry for interrupting.” _

“It’s fine.” Izuna drags his hand away from his cock before he can make a mistake, shoving it into the small of his back as his eyes flutter shut. The sharp pang of need is still there, but he can ignore that for now. He can do that for Madara. “What’s wrong?”

_ “I was just… Thinking about you, and I couldn’t sleep unless I knew you were okay.” _ Madara’s voice is soft, subdued, and Izuna’s blood burns at the sound of it.

Beautiful sweet omega checking on him, worrying about him, wanting to make sure he is all right—  _ No. _ “I’m fine. It’s just rut. It’s not ever as bad as I make it out to be.”

_ “I remember your first one being terrible,” _ Madara counters, and Izuna huffs softly in laughter because yes, his first rut was by far one of the worst he’s ever been through. With or without the slide of Madara’s fingers in his own, the breathless moment where Madara almost crossed the threshold into his room.  _ “I, ah. I remember you asking me to come into your room, and I almost did. Otousama had to pull us apart.” _

He remembers that. Izuna sucks in a breath, because he remembers that afternoon with a shocking clarity that is not present in most of his childhood. “Yeah, I… Shouldn’t have—”

_ “And I could have said no, but I didn’t.” _ Madara hurries to interrupt him, and Izuna snaps his mouth shut, hand wriggling beneath his back with the desire to touch himself.

“You didn’t,” he agrees. Arguing the point is ridiculous, because he remembers that day. “You were so pretty, Nii-san, I…”  _ Shut up shut up shut up. _ “And you smelled so sweet and good. I just wanted to wrap myself around you and never let you go.”

Answering the phone is one of the biggest mistakes Izuna could have made, and now he cannot even shut his damn mouth. He should hang up. Apologize that he was in the middle of getting himself off and needing to go to bed, and leave Madara alone.

Madara’s breath hitches on the other end of the line and Izuna shudders. He is making so many mistakes. Should have never said anything to Kagami. Should have—  _ “So did you. I’d smelled other alphas in rut before but not like you. I would have let you do anything you wanted to me, Izuna. Because I know you wouldn’t have hurt me. Couldn’t have.” _

“Never,” Izuna agrees, his ego soaring because omega felt safe with him even then, felt safe with him young and inexperienced and only vaguely sure of what he was supposed to do with his knot. “I’d never hurt you. I just want to take care of you. You’re so good, Nii-san, you’re so  _ good _ and I just. I want to take care of you. I’d do anything for you.”

He’s so close to tripping over a love confession that it sickens him, and worse still when his hand slips out from behind his back to wrap around his cock once more. The friction and grip draws a wheeze from his throat because he can’t help himself. He has to touch. Omega is on the phone with him, omega wants to talk to him, and he can just faintly smell Madara still on his skin, in his hair. They are so close to carrying each other’s scents like proper mates so that everyone will know that they belong to each other.

_ “You’re taking such good care of me, Alpha.” _ The subtle shift in Madara’s voice tells Izuna that he knows exactly what Izuna is doing— And isn’t hanging up or asking him to stop.

Izuna croons softly. He wants to take care of his omega and is so, so pleased to know that he is. “Anything you want,” he says, fingers sliding through the pre-come dripping down his cock, sliding over his overheated skin. “Anything you need. I’d do anything for you.”

_ “I know. You’re so good to me. Always looking out for me, putting me first. You even… Left because you were worried about me, didn’t you?” _ The question is an innocent one but it makes Izuna’s chest ache. He did have to leave. Leave Madara at home because of this, because of his own traitorous body. Should have stayed, taken the repressors.  _ Stayed. _

Omega should never have to worry about him. Should only worry about being happy and warm and bothering him for more nesting supplies or food or water. Anything he might need. Izuna’s knot, maybe, and a bellyful of pups to purr and croon over. His omega is so soft all the way down to the core, so loving. He’d make such a beautiful mother.

“Just wanted to protect you,” Izuna says, though his voice quivers. He doesn’t even know if he believes that now, or if he ran away because of his own cowardice. “Keep you safe.”

Madara sighs softly across the line.  _ “You weren’t going to force me even if you stayed. You don’t scare me, Alpha. I know you would have taken care of me no matter what.” _

“I wish you were here.” Izuna can’t deny how badly he wants his omega here, even if he can’t touch him. Just to look at him, to talk to him, to make him smile and purr, to reassure him that he’s wanted. “I miss you so much, omega. I missed you as soon as I left.”

_ “Do you wish I was with you now?” _ Madara asks, and Izuna whines softly in answer. Of course he does. How could his omega ever doubt how much he wants him?

If Izuna had his way, the two of them would be attached at the hip. There would never be a moment where Madara would feel sad or lonely, never a moment where Izuna could not be there to cheer him up and remind him how much he loves him.

He should be home now, wrapped around his omega, telling him how much he loves him.

“Yes. I want you here. I always want you here. I never wanted to be away from you.” He bares his teeth at no one, because Hashirama is in prison and not here. There is no one to keep them apart now except for Izuna’s body and his urges. No one to take Madara away.

And there will never be anyone. Any alpha who comes sniffing around his omega will be dealt with, challenged and pinned down until they either submit or die beneath his teeth. No one is going to take Madara away from him, lock him up in a house that smells like fake flowers and teach him that even small mistakes must bear brutal punishment. No one will ever leave bruises on his pretty pale skin or take him when he doesn’t want it.

_ “Are you…” _ Madara swallows hard, a gulping sound that has Izuna shivering.  _ “You’re touching yourself right now, aren’t you, otouto? Your voice, ah, I can hear it.” _

“Do you want me to stop?” He doesn’t want to make Madara uncomfortable. Not now.

_ “No.” _ The single word makes Izuna’s hips pitch off the mattress, his blood catching fire because omega wants him to touch himself, wants him to come. And Izuna is going to give him what he wants.  _ “Are you thinking about me? Do you think about me when you…” _

Izuna swallows hard, nodding frantically even though he knows Madara can’t see him right now. “I am. I… You’re so beautiful. You’re the most gorgeous omega I’ve ever seen, who could even begin to compare to you? My pretty, perfect brother.”

He needs to shut up and he knows it. Needs to bite down on his tongue until he bleeds if that is what it takes. Bite his tongue off to keep himself from saying all of this over the phone because at this rate, Madara is going to be afraid of him. Afraid of these feelings.

He hears a soft cooing sound on the other side of the phone and squeezes his eyes shut, because Madara is making happy sounds for him. God.  _ God. “Tell me what you think about.” _

“You. Just you. Just making love to you.” Izuna is torn between wanting to die at how easily the admissions slip from his tongue and how his hand speeds up on his cock, but Madara doesn’t sound angry with him. Not afraid, either. He’s confused. Is this what his omega wants? Does his omega want him? “Kissing you, touching you, tasting you. Making you feel so good. That’s all I want. I just want you to enjoy yourself when I’m with you.”

_ “Do you fantasize about getting me pregnant?” _ The question comes out of nowhere and slams into Izuna harder than anything ever has, dragged from his last fantasy. This cannot be real. Madara cannot be asking Izuna if he dreams about breeding him.

But he is, he  _ is. _ “Yes. Fuck yes. Knotting you just like you want, giving you the pups you want. Just wanna keep you in your nest and pamper you while they grow inside you.”

_ “You want pups with me?” _ The hopeful note in Madara’s voice absolutely breaks him. How could he not want that? Madara is perfect. Izuna wants literally everything with him.

He should tell him that. He should erase every doubt in his omega’s mind, put him at ease. Even if he can’t fix the past, he can reassure Madara now, and that matters.

“I want  _ you, _ ” he says, the slick sounds of his hand’s movements starting to grow louder as he fucks up into his own hand. “I want you as my mate. I want to put my teeth in your neck and make you mine. I want you in my den and I want you pregnant with my pups and as soon as you’re ready for another litter, I want to give it to you. Anything you want, I want to give you. I just want you to be happy. I love you so much, Nii-san, I love you so  _ much. _ ”

There it is. Izuna can’t take it back now. There will be no way to deny it later—

_ “Otouto.” _ Madara’s voice trembles and Izuna whines because no, no no  _ no _ he didn’t mean to upset Madara, doesn’t want him to cry.  _ “Are you close? I know you are. Come for me.” _

His body obeys while he’s still struggling to figure out why Madara’s voice would quiver like that, a wordless shout that fills the bedroom. Come splashes up against his stomach and drips over his fingers. It won’t  _ stop. _ Izuna yowls and whines and wriggles on the sheets, and he can hear Madara over the phone still. Can hear him  _ purring _ and it makes his body twist and buck and writhe because his omega is happy, his precious omega is  _ happy. _

Izuna slumps back against the bed, panting harshly, palm cupped over the swell of his knot as he stares up at the ceiling. “Fuck,” he whispers. He feels like he almost died.

_ “Alpha,” _ Madara breathes, and Izuna’s cock jumps again, twitching in interest already. Awful, how quickly his body is ready to respond to Madara.  _ “Why are you so far away?” _

Izuna whines softly, pulling the phone closer to him. “I don’t want to be. I don’t.”

_ “I want you back home. I want you in my nest. It’s where you belong.” _ Madara’s breath hitches again and Izuna cocks his head at the phone, wetting his lips.  _ “Alpha…” _

“Are you masturbating, Nii-san?” It’s hard to tell, but Madara’s breathing keeps catching, little breathy sounds that Izuna can faintly pick up on. He must have the phone far away from his mouth, trying to minimize the sounds. Trying to stay quiet.

_ “You said all those pretty things to me,” _ Madara says, and Izuna can’t help the low, pleased rumble that spills up his throat. Omega is touching himself because Izuna aroused him, and he can imagine it easily. Madara’s fingers sliding through the slick gathering between his folds, nudging his hole open slowly—  _ “And you aren’t here to do it for me.” _

“Omega.” He can’t help himself now, twisting onto his side. He should be tired. Should be exhausted, but his body is suddenly wired tight. “Omega, tell me what you need.”

All he has to do is say it, and Izuna will do anything to give it to him. Anything he wants.

_ “I want you home.” _ Madara keens softly and Izuna croons in answer, curling himself around his phone and wishing it was Madara’s body, warm and soft and lax against his own.  _ “I want you here next to me. I want you to touch me. I want you to tell me you love me to my face. Please, otouto, Alpha, I want you to come home. I never wanted you to leave.” _

Home. Omega wants him home. “I’m there. I’m coming. I’m… Just let me… Are you sure?”

He needs to know that this is what Madara wants, and this distance is necessary for that. He doesn’t want Madara to feel pressured by his pheromones or his sweet words when he’s standing right in front of him, though Izuna is already long gone. It takes so little from Madara to drag him right back home, but if he says no, Izuna will stay away.

_ “Come home, Alpha.” _ Madara purrs at him, and Izuna’s resolve to stay away shatters.  _ “I need you. I need my alpha to come take care of me. Please come home to me.” _

“I’m coming. Right now. I’ll be there soon.” Izuna tells him goodbye and hangs up the phone with trembling hands. He pitches himself out of bed toward his bag on the floor, shoving his dirty clothes back into it after he drags out a clean set for himself.

His knot is still sort of sore, but he can stuff it down in his jeans and ride the discomfort on the way home. Because Madara is waiting for him, his beautiful omega who wants him, who didn’t panic at his declaration of love. His perfect brother who wants him to come home, back to the den and back to Madara’s nest. How can Izuna possibly waste time?

The bedroom door swings open just as he’s half-tripping trying to put on socks. “Hey, what the hell? I know you’re in here jerking off or whatever, but— Izuna, are you all right?”

“I have to go.” Izuna almost goes sprawling in the floor once more, but catches himself at the last second. Can’t go home with a broken nose. Omega would be worried. “Madara called, and I… I have to go home, Kagami. He wants me to come home.”

Kagami catches him the third time he almost falls, coughing hard as Izuna’s rut scent likely burns its way into his nose. “Ugh, I hate you so much. But good! Go home and be with Madara-nii and stop trying to come through my fucking walls, literally. Go on, go.”

Izuna has to call a car to come get him to take him home, but even through his nerves and his sweating palms, he’s ready. He wants to go home to his omega.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> izuna's going home to madara~
> 
> again, thank you so much to CreativeSweets for the phone call conversation! it ended up here after all.


	19. Chapter 19

The car ride home is easily the longest fifteen minutes of Izuna’s life.

He tips the beta driver extra for being able to tolerate his rut scent and fumbles with his bag before stepping out of the car and nearly sprinting to his front door. Madara wants him home. Omega wants him home. All he can do is fixate on Madara’s soft insistence that he wanted Izuna here with him, chiding himself for ever leaving when he knows how much Madara needs him right now. Remembering his hidden hands, his turned-away face.

None of that matters now, though. All that matters is getting in the front door, wrapping Madara up in his arms, and never letting him doubt how much Izuna loves him again.

Madara wants him. Omega wants him.  _ Nii-san wants him. _

His hands are trembling when he reaches the door, and he doesn’t have to knock for it to swing inward. Madara stands on the other side of it, lips pressed into a thin line, chin tilted upward as if he thinks he needs to be strong right now. As if Izuna cares about that. All he cares about is Madara right here in front of him, asking for him and wanting him.

“Nii-san.” Izuna takes a tentative step closer to him and freezes when Madara looks away from him, lips trembling slightly. Did he take too long? He must have taken too long.

“Did you mean it?” Madara’s grip on the door tightens, pale knuckles bleaching whiter as his voice trembles just barely. Just enough for Izuna to hear it. “If you didn’t mean it, if you were just saying it, then… I just need to know if you were serious, otouto.”

Even now, Madara isn’t sure that Izuna loves him. He needs to be shown how much.

Izuna throws his bag at the coat rack and nearly knocks it over, ignoring the startled yowl that means he likely almost hit his cat in the process. He stumbles over the threshold into the house and right into Madara, throwing his arms around his waist and hugging him close. His face goes right for Madara’s throat and he groans in gratitude when Madara tips his head back, offering Izuna his scent and all that warm, pale skin.

“I meant it.” Izuna caresses his back reverently, hooking a foot around the door to kick it shut behind him. “I’ve never wanted anyone more in this world than I want you.”

Madara whimpers softly and Izuna kisses his throat, barely-there brushes of his lips against thin, sensitive skin. He can smell the arousal here, faint but there, and his cock jumps at the thought that his omega is aroused for him and because of their conversation on the phone. But that can wait. That can wait until Madara is looking at him like he knows he’s the center of Izuna’s world and can get anything he wants because of it.

“Nii-san.” Izuna kisses over his pulse, tongue darting out to taste his skin. “My omega.”

He cups Madara’s face in his hands, drawing him closer, pressing their foreheads together and rumbling deep in his throat until Madara chirps softly for him. Being close to him like this is all Izuna wants, especially with the prickle of warmth beneath his skin insisting he take Madara up to his nest and knot him properly. Give him what he wants.

But first, give Madara what he needs. It’s why Izuna came all the way here so suddenly.

“Madara.” The name slips from his tongue as reverently as he can say it, their noses brushing together as he resists the urge to kiss him. Not yet. Not just yet. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you for years. You’re the only one I could ever see myself beside.”

The soft, hitching breath his words earn draw a comforting croon from his throat before Madara’s hands rise to curl around his wrists. Just holding him. “I love you, too.”

Izuna’s heart  _ sings _ and he tries not to immediately crowd into Madara’s space, making himself stay where he is. “I wanted to tell you for years but I… I didn’t think you’d want that from me. And I didn’t want to scare you so that I’d never see you again.”

“I want it.” Madara’s hands sink into his hair, wrapping around his ponytail to keep him from going anywhere. As if he’d ever want to. “I want you to love me like that.”

Sweet acceptance washes over Izuna in a comforting wave as he traces the curve of Madara’s hip through the thin yukata he’s wearing. He can feel smooth skin beneath and shivers at the thought of Madara naked with just a bit of silk between them. It would be so easy to part the fabric and touch him, but not yet. Not until Madara is certain.

“Then I will.” Izuna kisses the corner of his mouth, relishing the way Madara coos softly and leans into him. Softens against him, fitting into the curve of his embrace so perfectly. Like they were made to slot together just like this, flawlessly connected.

That it took them so long to get to this point just seems ridiculous to him now.

“You don’t care about…” Madara trails off and ducks his head against Izuna’s shoulder, but he knows. He already knows what Madara is asking without having to be told.

“All I care about is making you happy and helping you heal.” Izuna tilts his head to kiss Madara’s temple, nuzzling into all that soft dark hair. “That’s all I want, Nii-san. And if I’m the one who can make you happy, then that’s beyond perfect to me. That’s nirvana.”

Madara whimpers softly and Izuna croons to him, hugging him tighter as he pets gentle hands along his brother’s back. He knows. He may never know the details, but he knows that Madara has been hurt. The road will be a long one. He’ll walk it alongside him.

Or carry him down it, preferably, letting Madara rest in his arms on the long journey.

“I believe you.” Madara tilts his head and kisses the side of Izuna’s throat, right where he would leave a mark if he wanted to place one. It makes Izuna shiver in want.

Izuna leans back to look at him again, combing his fingers through Madara’s hair, gathering it all back behind his shoulders so he can look at him properly. There’s so much of it, and later Izuna will nudge him into the bath just so he can wash it and dry it and brush it, pamper his brother as much as he deserves. Teach him one day at a time how a mated omega should be treated and spoiled and given everything they could ever want.

But for now, Izuna can do this for him, and he thinks Madara might need this, too.

He cups Madara’s face in his hands and kisses him. Brings their lips together as slowly as possible, to give Madara as much time to back out as he might want. Brushes their mouths together first, a prelude, a question. And when Madara leans into him to complete the kiss, Izuna sighs thankfully into his mouth, tilting his head so their lips meet seamlessly.

Years of waiting and suffering and biting his tongue. Nights spent with his eyes squeezed against the shadows and the echoes of his brother’s laughter in his mind. Hours spent with a fake smile pasted onto his lips because the thought of Madara with any other alpha, bonded to any other alpha, sat hard and cold and sour in the pit of his stomach.

All for this moment. All for the moment that Madara falls into his arms, hands clinging to his shoulders, lips moving shyly against his own. Izuna coaxes him into slow kisses, leading the way and letting Madara follow, fingers brushing alone the lines of his cheeks, his jaw, his throat. His beautiful brother, letting him have this. Gifting him with this.

“I love you.” He whispers it between kisses, taking in Madara’s flushed cheeks, his lidded eyes. “I love you so much, Nii-san. I just want to be the alpha you deserve.”

Madara bridges the space between them with another kiss and Izuna’s hands slip up into the glory of all that dark hair. “You already are. You’ve always been that alpha.”

Izuna licks at the seam of his lips and Madara parts them for him, and it takes so much not to pounce him while he carefully licks into his brother’s mouth. It’s warm and wet inside, and a few coaxing licks having Madara’s tongue meeting his own timidly. There’s a faint trace of something sweet on his tongue and Izuna nearly melts to his knees when he realizes it’s slick, like Madara licked his own fingers clean after he touched himself.

Like Izuna did in the fantasy. Like he wants to do now, but at the source. Tuck his face down between Madara’s thighs, but… He has to control himself. Madara needs him.

“Bed?” He kisses the corner of Madara’s mouth, smiling softly when Madara chirps for him. “It’s late. And I don’t want you to have to stay up all night because of me.”

“It’s all right when it’s you.” Madara nuzzles into his throat and Izuna lets him, elated.

But bed, seriously.  _ Nest, _ specifically. Izuna easily sweeps Madara up and off of his feet, crooning when Madara chirps up at him and settles into his arms. He carries him upstairs to his bedroom, to the nest waiting for them, the one that smells like happy and  _ aroused _ omega, and he can’t help but imagine Madara lying here, phone close to his lips.

Hand tucked between his thighs, stroking the soft folds of his pussy.  _ Fuck… _

Izuna lays him in the nest and kicks his jeans off. He can sleep in just the shirt and boxers, but the jeans have to go. “Your nest is so nice, Nii-san, it’s the best.”

Madara giggles up at him and scrubs his cheek against a pillow, looking up at Izuna from under dark lashes as he pats the space next to him. “Then come lay with me.”

The speed with which Izuna vaults over the edge of the nest would be embarrassing if not for the way Madara trills up at him happily. The way that hands reach out to grip him and hold him, pulling him in close, reeling him in and tangling long, strong legs with his leaner ones. Izuna is more than happy to sink into his mate’s embrace, peppering Madara’s lips with kisses, coiling his fingers in all that lush hair. This is all he’s ever wanted.

His thigh shifts and  _ rubs _ and Madara jolts against him, gasping against his lips. Izuna freezes, afraid he might have hurt him, nudging Madara’s jaw with his nose. “Nii-san?”

“Sorry, I.” Madara dips his head a little, and Izuna can smell it again. That hint of arousal that makes his stomach curl hot with want. “I… With you off the phone, I couldn’t focus. I was… I wanted you home and was too excited to finish, really.”

Oh, he hasn’t come yet. He was touching himself on the phone and then. “Do you want to?”

“Yes.” Madara closes his eyes and Izuna kisses him on the nose, petting a hand over the curve of his hip. He has nice wide ones, so he’ll easily be able to carry pups. “Help?”

_ Help. _ Izuna’s brain pops, something vital likely breaking as his hindbrain all but demands he get down on his knees and offer to eat Madara out. “Gladly. How do you want me to?”

“Any way you want is fine.” Madara tucks his face into a pillow, and when Izuna kisses his cheek, he can feel the warmth of the skin beneath it. His pretty omega is embarrassed to ask, but he understands that. The last alpha who was with him only ever hurt him.

Izuna kisses him on the cheek again, nips at his jaw. “But what do  _ you _ want?”

“I want you to hold me.” Madara shifts to tuck his face against Izuna’s throat once more, lips dragging against the skin there and sending goosebumps down Izuna’s spine. “Please.”

That’s fine. Izuna can work with that. He kisses Madara’s hair and slides a hand down, nudging his yukata open and drawing one powerful thigh up and over his hip. Tomorrow, he’s going to feed his omega until he can’t eat anymore and maybe they can figure out a workout routine together. Madara builds muscle mass easier than some alphas and was always proud of it, and he should get that weight back if he wants it.

Izuna skims a hand over the bare curve of his ass, appreciating the soft warm skin pressed into his palm. “You have such a pretty body, Nii-san. Thank you for letting me touch it.”

“Alpha.” Madara curls closer to him and Izuna lets him, fingers tracing a path along the back of his thigh to the soft heat waiting for him, craving his touch.

His breath catches when his fingertips brush the soft outer lips of Madara’s pussy for the first time, skating through the slick with ease. Izuna shivers in pleasure and finds his slit, tracing the hot delicate line of it before nudging just one finger deeper. Madara is so wet, he must have been so close. Touching himself to Izuna’s promises to take care of him.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” Izuna nuzzles against his temple, brushing his finger a little deeper. His brother is so wet that it would be easy to slide inside of him like this, take him sweet and slow and teach him what it means to be made love to.

Madara nods, hands gripping the back of Izuna’s shirt. “Please don’t stop, Alpha.”

“I won’t. Not until you come.” Izuna rumbles softly for him and Madara shivers as he shifts his own leg higher up Izuna’s hip, opening himself up to the exploration of Izuna’s touch.

The angle isn’t right to get a hand on his cock but Izuna will do that next time, when he can use his mouth as well as both of his hands. He keeps his free hand cupping the back of Madara’s neck, stroking over the skin there, imagining pressing his teeth in while he’s knotted so deep that Madara is the only focus in his world. It’s what his hindbrain wants.

But it’s not just that. It’s what  _ Izuna _ wants, Madara under him and under his teeth.

“So pretty.” Izuna kisses his forehead and shifts his hand, fingers skimming the edge of Madara’s entrance where he’s warmest and wettest. The air is heavy and sweet, perfumed with the scent of aroused omega and slick, and Izuna revels in it. “How does it feel, Nii-san? Do you want my fingers inside of you, or do you want them kept outside?”

“Inside.” Madara rolls his hips down against Izuna’s fingers with a little hopeful chirp.

God, yes. Izuna leans back to kiss him, but no farther. Just enough to touch their lips together as he eases his fingers inside. Madara’s so wet and open for him that it’s easy, so relaxed and trusting that Izuna has no problem sinking in to the first, then second knuckle. Madara is tight around his fingers but not too tight, just enough that Izuna can give him the friction he needs to make him come so they can both get some sleep.

“I love you.” He kisses Madara again, dizzy with how close he is, how Madara makes little gasping noises against his lips. “Trust me, Nii-san, and let me take care of you.”

“I do. Trust you.” Madara’s hands tighten against his back and Izuna rumbles, soft and pleased. He kisses Madara again because he can, then curls his fingers forward against the front wall of his cunt. The texture here is just different enough for him to feel.

Izuna presses their foreheads together, drinking in Madara’s scent, the soft little whining moans, the way he pulses inside, rippling around Izuna’s fingers. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes, Alpha.” Madara curls into him and Izuna lets him, holds him close and strokes that little place inside of him until he can feel Madara’s walls tighten around his fingers.

He makes tiny little hiccuping gasps against Izuna’s throat when he comes, wetter around his fingers and squirming. It’s so cute that Izuna’s heart nearly gives out, but he just strokes Madara through his orgasm until he trembles from overstimulation. Then he slips his fingers free, webbing the stickiness between them in awe. He made Madara come.

“Izuna—” Madara cuts off when Izuna licks his fingers, slipping them between his lips around a moan. So sweet, so good. He’s going to thoroughly enjoy when Madara trusts him head to let Izuna eat him out. “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“No. Refractory period.” Izuna cups Madara’s hip and kisses him again, then tucks the yukata back around him and reaches for a blanket. “Sleep, Nii-san. Your alpha wants you good and rested so that he can spend all of tomorrow spoiling you around his rut.”

Madara cuddles into his arms and a low, vibrating purr starts up in his throat. It’s such a beautiful sound that Izuna can’t help but relax instantly, tangling his legs with Madara’s and wrapping his arms around him. Keep him close and warm and feeling safe, be right here in case there are any bad dreams. Soothe his omega and keep him happy and purring.

For once, there is no tug between Izuna and his alpha instincts. He holds his omega close and rumbles for him, a soothing lullaby to help him get some sleep. Tomorrow, he’ll make good on pampering him, make sure Madara knows how Izuna treasures him.

That’s all Izuna has ever wanted, and he’s finally going to get it.

And this time, he’s going to be the alpha that Madara needs no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally the BIG confession moment!
> 
> also twitter plug again~ come hang out at [@shotamadara](https://twitter.com/shotamadara) if you want to!


	20. Chapter 20

Omegas nest for comfort and security, and waking up wrapped in blankets and surrounded by softness is by far the best way to wake up. Izuna yawns as he nuzzles his face into his brother’s hair, fingers drifting lazily up and down his spine as consciousness slowly seeps into his mind and body. His rut is still at full force and he grumbles softly at the insistent swell of his erection between his legs, but he doesn’t bother with it for now.

Madara is sleeping peacefully in his arms, and that matters so much more to him.

Izuna cannot help the raspy croon that leaves his throat as he kisses Madara’s forehead, skimming his hand over the curve of Madara’s shoulder and down to his ribs. He’s naked now, must have shed the yukata some time in the night, and he is beautiful. Stunning enough that Izuna needs a moment of just lying and looking at him to drink this in.

His brother is finally his. All Izuna needs to do now is mate him and mark him.

He brushes the pad of his thumb along Madara’s cheekbone, a small questioning noise leaving his throat at the sight of the soft flush there. Too warm? Impossible, because his brother is never too warm. He likes to layer up because he gets cold easily. Maybe he is simply having a pleasant dream about Izuna tenderly making love to him.

A dream they could easily make reality as soon as he wakes up. Izuna shivers in want, imagining Madara beneath him, trembling with need as Izuna slowly slides into him.

Then he breathes in, and the sharp command of  _ mate-bite-breed _ is like a gut punch.

“Nii-san?” Izuna cups Madara’s cheek, thumbing at his lower lip until Madara whines, long lashes slowly fluttering as he nuzzles into Izuna’s palm. “Please wake up for a second.”

“Why?” Madara’s hands are still on his back. Izuna feels them spasm there before curling against his spine, tugging him closer so that Madara can hide his face in Izuna’s shoulder.

He’s so affectionate and cuddly that it makes Izuna’s heart melt into a pitiful little puddle of goo in his chest, but he has to focus. “I know I kept you up late and I’m so sorry. I just need you to wake up for a minute and tell me how you’re feeling, all right?”

“Alpha, I don’t want to wake up yet.” Madara’s lips brush against his throat before pressing a small, chaste kiss there that makes something low in Izuna’s gut tighten. “Please not yet.”

Izuna is not hardwired to stand his ground when an omega pleads so softly and sweetly with him, but he needs to be sure about this. “Just for a minute, precious omega? Then you can go right back to sleep. I’ll even hold you all morning if that’s what you want.”

Madara chirps and peeks up at him from under all that long, tousled hair. “You promise?”

“As if I wouldn’t already be doing it.” Izuna huffs down at him and combs his fingers through Madara’s hair, pulling it back out of his face so he can see his brother properly. “Just tell me how you’re feeling right now, okay? Because you smell… Fucking amazing.”

Slowly, Madara rolls away from him, sitting up and stretching long, strong arms up above his head, arching his back. Izuna shoves a hand down against his cock as he eyes that slope, imagining it pressed against his chest while he takes Madara from behind so he can sink his teeth into his nape. But later. Right now, he needs to make sure Madara is feeling okay.

He watches as Madara rolls his neck, ruffling his hair with one hand and shoving it back behind his broad shoulders. What a gorgeous omega he is, all that pretty skin to mark up lovingly and with a body strong enough that he wouldn’t need Izuna to protect their pups.

And when the time comes, Izuna is going to enjoy filling that pretty body with pups and keeping it wrapped up safe and warm in this nest. Madara deserves that much.

Sitting up, the heavy sweet scent rolling off of Madara’s skin that claws at Izuna’s guts is all the more noticeable. Improbable if not impossible, because an omega’s cycle is roughly every three months, and Madara just finished up a cycle before he and Izuna were reunited once again. How can he be going into heat so soon after his last cycle?

Pure alpha ego rumbles at the thought of Madara’s body shifting into another cycle because Izuna is a worthy alpha who would give him strong, beautiful pups. But he can’t pretend not to be concerned, because that is a lot to put on a recovering omega.

“Hmm.” Madara tips his head to the side, hand wandering down to press against his lower belly. “I see why you wanted me to get up now. That’s very unusual.”

Izuna nods, stretching out a hand to skim it along Madara’s thigh. “Exactly. I know what I smelled. You shouldn’t be cycling this early, should you? That sounds… Wrong.”

“Dunno. My cycles were erratic by the end of… By the end of that.” Madara looks down at him and Izuna reaches for his hand, tugging it closer so he can plant a kiss on Madara’s knuckles. “My heat cycles were unsuccessful as well. I don’t know if I was even fertile.”

“Unsuccessful? What kind of alpha fails to breed an omega in heat?” The concept makes Izuna scoff as he sits up, shifting in the hopes that Madara does not notice he’s hard right now. That would make this awkward for both of them. “That’s the entire reason they make rut repressors and heat suppressants. It’s almost impossible  _ not _ to conceive like that.”

Madara shrugs at him, kneading at his lower stomach. It must be tender. “I don’t know. I’m not going to pretend I’m ungrateful. I didn’t want to have children with him.”

“What about with me?” Izuna can’t stop himself from asking. Not when he’s still in rut.

“Didn’t I already ask you about that last night?” Madara drags Izuna’s hand up to his mouth to return the kiss, and Izuna tries very hard not to fall the fuck apart at the sight. “But it’s probably just a false heat. The same way alphas will go into false ruts if their cycle is off or they’re trying to sync with their omega’s. Also, I want a shower.”

Izuna raises an eyebrow at him, slowly dragging himself up from lying down even if he just wants to stretch out in all of this omega heat scent and soak it in. “What if we showered together? It’s big enough for both of us to fit inside. I can wash your hair.”

And if it gives him a chance to admire Madara fully naked, flushed and soaking wet…

“We might be able to do something about your problem in there.” Madara’s eyes flick down toward his lap and Izuna smiles up at him, embarrassed. “Come on. Shower.”

Forget the nest. Izuna scrambles out of it while Madara rises gracefully, muscles rolling beneath his skin like a large and predatory cat. Izuna groans at the sight of him and Madara yelps, looking back at him with wide dark eyes. Not startled or afraid at least, so Izuna lets himself prowl close enough to catch his brother around the waist, planting a kiss on his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft and rosy warm under Izuna’s hands.

The bathroom across the hall is not the one Izuna has in mind. He takes Madara by the hand once they slip out of the bedroom and leads him to his own room, imagining Madara’s nest but on his bed. Maybe they can talk about moving it later.

“Lemme start the water.” Izuna absolutely does not want to let Madara go just to walk across his own bathroom to start the water in the stall, but he does. “Uh, should we brush your hair before I wash it? Don’t want to accidentally pull on any knots or anything.”

Madara eyes his reflection in the mirror with a contemplative expression that Izuna doesn’t understand before he nods, picking the brush up off the counter. “Probably.”

_ He hasn’t been with an alpha who treats him well before. _ Izuna reminds himself of this as he takes the brush before Madara can use it, kissing him on the shoulder this time. “Let me do it, then. I can reach it easier from back there, and I said I was pampering you.”

“If you say so, Alpha.” There is a playful glitter in Madara’s eyes now, and Izuna loves to see that. He’ll spend as much time as he needs to so he can cement that look.

There are tangles and knots in Madara’s hair, hard not to be with how much of it he has. Izuna takes his time brushing each knot out as carefully as possible so as not to pull on his roots. Madara sighs and settles into the easy strokes of the brush, that low sweet purr building up in his chest once again and stroking the fire in Izuna’s belly. His cock is already as hard as it could possibly be given that his beautiful, naked brother is trusting him like this. Izuna cannot fuck this up. He needs to go as slowly as Madara needs him to.

And he will. This is the kind of chance that every alpha hopes for in their lives. That the omega of their choice will not only deign to give them a chance, but  _ trust _ them.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, setting the brush down and burrowing into Madara’s hair. He keeps his hips tilted back. Rutting against Madara’s ass through his boxers seems rude.

“Am I?” Madara shifts slightly against him and Izuna nods, kissing his hair. “Otouto…”

Izuna steps back just so he can turn Madara around, cupping his face and turning those pretty black eyes to his once more. “You are  _ so _ beautiful, Nii-san. I’m so lucky.”

“Mm. I think I’m the lucky one here.” Madara brushes his lips against the corner of Izuna’s mouth, not quite a kiss but just shy of one. “You really came in and swept me off my feet.”

“Would have done that a long time ago if I thought it was even an option.” Would have challenged Hashirama directly if he could have, put his teeth in the fucker’s throat if only to earn his submission and his assurance that he would back off. After all, Izuna wouldn’t have known he would go on to abuse Madara like this. “I… I wanted to, you know.”

Madara dips his head a little, pressing a kiss against Izuna’s shoulder followed by a soft little kittenish lick. Not sexual, just affectionate. Just an omega and his gentle way of showing how he loves. “All I really remember was your first rut. And… And Chichiue.”

That word sends a bolt of pure ice down Izuna’s spine; only his rut keeps him hard. “Right.”

“You were there for me that night, too.” Madara rests his head there, against the crook where Izuna’s shoulder and his neck meet. “I was so scared, but you weren’t.”

“I mean I was, but that was kind of secondary to everything else.” To the blood and the fear staining the house just as deep and rich, coaxing something inside of Izuna to  _ snap _ and protect. If only he could have done it a little sooner…

A brush of tongue against the cord in his neck has Izuna shivering slightly, stretching up a hand to lace in Madara’s hair. “You didn’t act like you were afraid.”

“Well, I had to protect you, didn’t I?” Protect Madara from… From Chichiue, even though their brothers were dead. Even though Izuna thought Tajima  _ might _ be dead. His small, child’s mind  _ exploded _ at the sight of that tall, towering, snarling alpha on top of Madara.

Most of his memories of that night are stained with red, hard for him to remember most of the details. But he remembers that clearly. Remembers Madara on the ground, one hand braced on the carpet and the other raised as if to say  _ stop _ even as he keened and cried.

Remembers blood on his tongue and bone against his teeth and the wet  _ squelch _ of tearing flesh, and then Izuna was sitting in Madara’s lap on the front porch, growling.

“Alpha?” Madara licks his neck again and Izuna hums softly, letting him know he’s still here with him. “I think the shower’s hot. We should get in before it runs cold.”

“Yeah. And then I can make you something to eat. And I was thinking maybe we could move your nest to my bed, if you wanted.” Izuna keeps his hand in Madara’s hair, sliding it up to cup the back of his neck to steer him toward the shower. Easy but guiding.

Madara’s face visibly lights up. “I’d like that. All of that.”

The water is hot enough to steam as Izuna opens the door leading into the shower stall, which is all frosted glass to keep anyone from being able to see inside. It’s easily big enough for two people to fit inside of comfortably with a seat against one wall for the days when he came home tired and just wanted to sit and enjoy himself for a moment. He could fuck Madara there, he realizes. Have him brace his hands on the bench and take him from behind, or have Madara sit on his lap. The possibilities are certainly there.

His rut is going to make the next couple of days a little frustrating, naturally.

He nudges Madara inside and sheds his shirt and boxers, tossing them in the laundry basket before following after him. The door latches behind him and then Madara steps into his arms, pulling Izuna under the hot spray and planting a kiss on his jaw.

“Let me kiss you properly,” Izuna insists when Madara kisses up to his cheek.

“No. Neither of us have brushed our teeth yet.” Madara gives him a look and Izuna surrenders without question, just wanting his omega happy. “Did you want help with this?”

The way Madara’s fingertips barely skim the side of his shaft is almost enough to take Izuna’s knees out from under him. Not that he had forgotten, he was just… Distracted.

“You really don’t have to,” he says, catching Madara by the wrist before he can actually touch Izuna’s cock. “I know I keep saying you don’t have to, but… You really don’t. I don’t want you thinking you have to do anything for me, ever. Not even this. My hands still work.”

Madara scoffs softly at him. “I know I don’t have to. I  _ want _ to help you with it, Izuna.”

“Oh.” Izuna’s head swims a little at that thought, and Madara shakes him off and makes a firm grab for his cock, fingers sliding along his shaft. “Oh, fuck, Nii-san, a  _ warning. _ ”

Teeth catch at the side of his neck and Izuna has that bright hot fantasy once more of Madara sinking his teeth in deep, blood dribbling down Izuna’s collarbone. “Tell me what you’re going to do for me, Alpha. I want to hear you say it again like you did last night.”

“You’re trying to kill me.” Izuna’s back hits the wall seconds later for the smart mouth, he’s certain, Madara’s larger body caging him in against the tiles. Now that he’s complaining when Madara is touching his cock, stroking it with sure fingers. “Everything you want, omega. You want my teeth in your neck? You want everyone to know you belong to me?”

It would almost embarrass him how much this lip gets him off, the tension in his stomach curling tight as Madara strokes his cock, eyes lidded. “Of course, Alpha. I already do.”

Fuck.  _ Fuck. _ Izuna’s hips buck at the words and Madara smiles softly at him, though it looks almost predatory in this lighting. “I want you on my cock. Wrapped around my knot. You have such a pretty pussy. I can’t wait to be buried deep inside of it.”

“Yeah?” It’s more a whine than a question, Madara’s cheeks picking up a pretty flush while his hand strokes Izuna faster. He has soft hands and between the water and the pre-come dripping from Izuna’s tip, there’s plenty of lubrication. “Tell me more, otouto.”

Izuna presses his lips against Madara's ear, rolling his hips up into the slick grip on his cock. “I’m not going to stop even once I knot you. Gonna play with your pretty little cock until you’re screaming for me. Grind up inside of you until you’re gushing wet.”

He could touch Madara now— Izuna groans when Madara cups his palm over the head of his cock and squeezes lightly, rubbing against the sensitive nerves there until Izuna’s knees tremble. “You come in me enough and you’re bound to get pups out of me, you know.”

“Good. I  _ want _ them.” Izuna skates his fingers across Madara’s stomach even as his hips buck erratically, his orgasm right  _ there, _ his brain fixating on the image of Madara looking up at him through half-closed eyes, hand resting on the swollen curve of his stomach as the due date grows near. “I’m not going to stop fucking you until you’re full of my pups.”

The noise that leaves his throat is an embarrassing half-yowl of a sound, his legs shaking as he comes. He can visibly  _ see _ some of it on Madara’s skin and his cock jerks as his knot swells, whining pitifully when Madara slips his hand down to touch it, prodding at the firmness of it. Perfect to lock himself inside of Madara and keep him full until he’s bred.

“Your rut lasts two more days,” Madara tells him, smiling slyly. “Good luck, Alpha.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry not sorry for the obvious breeding kink. pregnant madara would be beautiful and izuna and i agree on that!


	21. Chapter 21

Madara slips off to his bedroom after they climb out of the shower, the water growing too cool for comfort and necessitating the choice. Izuna wraps him in towels and kisses him, helps him dry his hair and brushes it again just so he can feel the soft, fluffy weight of it warming against his fingers. Absolutely no part of him wants Madara to leave his side for even a moment, but he bites his tongue and lets him go. His rut is bound to make him act a little more protective, but they’re home. Madara is safe and sound here.

Clothing seems like the worst possible option in the world right now but Izuna drags on a yukata since the thought of cooking naked is unsavory. He wants to make good on his promise to pamper Madara as much as he’s allowed to do so, and making breakfast is easy enough. They can build their way up to Izuna keeping him safe in his nest, wrapped up in as many blankets as he wants while he’s carrying their litter of pups.

He’ll have to buy Madara more clothes. The thought perks him up right away, imagining softer and slouchier clothes on his frame once his belly grows too big for the ones he has. Imagines how easy it would be to slip his hand under Madara’s shirt to touch his belly.

Izuna glances at his bed and then at his closet before ripping the doors open and digging out the spare pillows and blankets he has tucked away in case of emergency. The guest room nesting supplies are for guests while his own supply is for any potential partner who might need them, kept separate so that they’d always be ready ahead of time.

Madara can make an even bigger, comfier nest. Maybe they should go shopping for more—

“Were you going to build my new nest for me, otouto?” The question comes from behind him and Izuna croons in answer, dumping the armful of softness on his mattress.

“No, I just thought you might want to use my stock. They smell like me a little, so—” Izuna turns to look at him and freezes on the spot, his brain skidding into his skull so hard he swears he can feel it. The rest of the world narrows down to just this one point, to Madara leaning against his bedroom door frame and smiling. “Nii-san, are you wearing a dress?”

A soft flush lights up Madara’s cheeks as he nods, brushing a hand over the soft material that lovingly drapes his body. “I bought it when I ordered my clothes.”

“Oh. I’m.” Izuna swallows hard, because this is taking a moment to process.

The nightgown— because that is what it is, he realizes— is transparent white cotton sheer enough for him to make out the dark thatch of hair between Madara’s thighs and the pretty brown of his nipples. Izuna bites down on the inside of his cheek and imagines slipping his hands beneath that to play with his cock, or just having Madara sit on his lap with that on. He looks so pretty and soft like this in a way Izuna hasn’t seen before.

“He, ah, never liked me in anything like this.” Madara shrugs a shoulder and Izuna bites back a snarl. Not like an omega in _omega’s clothing?_ “But… I like them. Skirts and dresses.”

“Most omegas that I know wear them. I’m not surprised.” Izuna smooths his hands over one of the pillows in front of him, centering himself before he starts snarling.

Madara nods, fingers tugging the skirt of the gown down a little farther, though it barely brushes the tops of his knees. Scandalous. It might ride up and expose his ass when he bends over— Izuna could have him just like that. “What do you think about me in it?”

“I think you look beautiful.” Izuna isn’t even going to pretend to be less shameless than he is, not now. Certainly not with Madara looking like this. “But I also think I could easily peel you out of that. Is it supposed to be so thin I can see your nipples through it?”

“Yes, actually.” Madara’s blush deepens, gorgeous crimson along his cheekbones.

Izuna wets his lips and wonders if Madara bought it with him in mind, though that’s all ego talking at this point. He needs to get his head out of his ass. “I like that about it.”

“It’s for when I go into heat. Most clothing feels restrictive and heavy, but this is light and airy. So I can have something on while I eat.” Madara smiles shyly at him and Izuna thinks about gifting a donation to whoever thought this ingenious design up.

“Well, you’re gorgeous in it. I’m definitely appreciating every aspect of it.” Izuna leaves the bedding and walks to where Madara is standing, skimming a hand up his thigh and along the curve of his hip. It fits the shape of Izuna’s hand perfectly. “And I’m going to enjoy taking it off of you. But first you need to eat. You lost weight, Nii-san.”

Madara nods, shifting closer to tuck his head down against Izuna’s shoulder again. He has to slump to do it, because he’s just a little bit taller than Izuna is. “I know. I didn’t _want_ to, but I guess withholding food was a successful punishment in his eyes.”

“Well, I’m not going to be doing that.” The mere thought of it is beyond disgusting. “We’re putting that weight back on you, with extra just to be safe. Any objections?”

A small kitten lick to the side of his neck. “None at all, Alpha. I’m happy to do that.”

“Good omega.” Izuna cups the back of his neck and Madara purrs, peeking up at him from his shoulder. Despite having pinned Izuna against the wall of the shower and demanding dirty talk a moment ago, Madara is sweet and shy now. “Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Kurama greets them at the bottom of the stairs with a long yowl, winding himself between Madara’s legs and sitting back on his hind paws to be picked up. Never in his life has Izuna seen this cat behave that way, but Madara coos and picks him up because he doesn’t know not to egg on bad behavior. Of course, Kurama has the audacity to rub his little furry head against Madara’s neck, though Izuna swears the cat is giving him a look for it.

“Someone else is hungry too.” Madara runs his fingers through soft ginger fur and giggles when Izuna scowls at his cat. “You two have got to learn to get along with each other.”

“I’m telling you now.” Izuna leans down, pointing a finger in Kurama’s face. “If you so much as _think_ about scratching one of the pups we’re going to have, you go back to the shelter.”

A paw swipes at his finger, but he dodges just in time. Bastard. Absolute bastard.

“I don’t think he’d do that, but we can always just make sure he’s not left alone with them if it becomes a concern. You don’t have to get rid of Kurama.” Madara makes a kissing noise and Kurama purrs at him, rubbing up against his jaw with that little furry head.

He carries Kurama into the kitchen where he bends over to fill up his food dish, and Izuna is greeted by the absolutely _lovely_ sight of the nightgown riding up enough for him to see Madara’s ass and, just barely, the soft pink of his folds. Izuna shamelessly ducks his head just a little bit, biting his tongue to see Madara is a little swollen. He might really be in the early stages of heat, which is going to make Izuna’s rut very interesting.

Then he stops ogling his brother and strides to the refrigerator, ripping open the door to find food. If he’s going to fuck Madara through a heat cycle, then he needs to get him fed. Make sure he has plenty to eat and drink so that he’ll have energy, or it will exhaust him.

And not in a fun way. Some omegas break down crying if their heat cycles go badly.

They have leftover rice and miso that Izuna can use, and he digs out some fish to grill and eggs so he can make omelets for them. A nice hardy breakfast to make up for keeping Madara up late and to ensure he has energy for today. Izuna plans on taking him up to his room and keeping him there, spoiling him with treats and orgasms and as much love and attention as he could possibly want. He has so much lost time to make up for.

“Are you sure you need to make that much?” Madara comes to hover just behind him, chin resting on Izuna’s shoulder before he kisses the side of his neck. God, he’s perfect.

“You’re going to need the energy,” Izuna says, and Madara laughs against his skin. “Besides, I told you I’m putting that weight back on you, and I meant it.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort, Alpha.” Madara purrs right in his ear and Izuna rumbles in return, feeling like he must be glowing from the inside out. Is this what perfect domestic life with a loving mate is like? He could really get used to living like this.

“I’d go through all the effort in the world for you.” Izuna turns to kiss him on the cheek. “Now go sit down and relax. I’ll put tea on for you in just a second.”

“I’m surprised you have so much on-hand. I feel like I’ve used a few boxes at this point.” Madara obeys and goes to sit at the table, and the bottom of his nightgown rides up on his thighs, offering Izuna plenty of creamy skin to gawk at.

He turns his attention back to the food, because he doesn’t want to burn anything. Pulls a bowl down from the cabinet so he can break and whisk the eggs. “I, ah. I might have picked up a box when I went to the grocery store. I was missing you a lot, I guess.”

“That’s… Sweet, Izuna.” Madara’s voice goes soft and Izuna shakes his head, because he doesn’t want his brother thinking about that right now. No sadness, not right now.

“So it’s good that you’re here because I was seriously running out of cabinet space, and with the way my head works, I’d have started throwing out my own shit to fit in more.” It’s not even really that much of a lie because he was considering making more space for more tea as soon as he ran out of room. “Besides, it worked out. Because you’re here now.”

Madara chirps softly and Izuna squeezes his eyes shut. Such a pretty sound. “That I am.”

Izuna puts water on to boil and turns his attention to the fish and eggs, easily handling the large breakfast like he’s done this a thousand times before. He hasn’t. Usually, Izuna just cooks for himself, and more often than not he goes for a light breakfast. Toast, maybe, or a granola bar if he decided to hit the Snooze button instead of getting out of bed.

But it comes easily to him. Taking care of Madara is just ingrained into his bones.

He flits over to the table with a cup and a box of tea, brushing a kiss over Madara’s hair before returning to the stove to finish up. Everything is good and hot, and he delivers it all to the table and then quickly sets it before Madara can stand up and offer.

His omega is going to spend the entire day relaxing. Izuna is determined to make it happen.

“This all looks so good.” Madara catches him by the sleeve before he can sit down, kissing the side of Izuna’s neck. “After we eat and brush our teeth, you can have that kiss.”

“I’m definitely looking forward to it.” Almost vibrating at the thought of it, Madara’s lips so soft and warm against his own. He loves his brother so much it hurts his heart.

There is fresh fruit on the counter and Izuna fetches a couple of bananas to push on Madara alongside everything else, because he needs the sugar. Then, when he’s finally sure that Madara has everything he could possibly need, he sits down to eat with him.

“You do realize this is serious, right?” Madara asks him around a bite of fish, and Izuna cocks his head at him. “False heat or actual heat, you’re in rut. You could actually get me pregnant. I just want to make sure _you_ realize that, and not just your cock.”

Izuna chokes on his rice and has to take a sip of tea to wash it back down. “God, you just say things like that. Anyway, yes, I know. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility for someone who was a bachelor until last night,” Madara says, and Izuna winces, because fair. He really has been living on his own all this time.

“In complete fairness to me, the reason that I was a bachelor until last night was because the omega of my dreams wasn’t with me yet.” Izuna prides himself on the way Madara smiles at those words, because they aren’t just talk on his part. They’re the truth. “But I mean… I thought about it. Even when I thought I shouldn’t do that.”

Madara slips his hand across the table, folding his fingers between Izuna’s. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how much you’ve been struggling with these feelings.”

“It worked out in the end. I’m happy now.” And even if it hadn’t worked out, preserving Madara’s happiness through any means necessary was far more important to him.

He risked his life for Madara once. What’s living with romantic feelings compared to that?

“Of course, but I’m still sorry. I wish I’d noticed earlier, maybe we could have talked about it. Maybe we would have ended up here with a little less pain for everyone.” Madara tries to smile, but he grimaces instead, and Izuna’s heart drops. Dear sweet omega, no.

“Hey, look at me.” He catches Madara’s wrist and gives it a tug until Madara meets his eyes. “What happened… None of that is your fault. You not noticing how I felt is not your fault. I purposefully hid it because I didn’t know how to tell you, and then I decided I wasn’t going to tell you. No one knew. I wanted it to be that way on purpose.”

“Tobirama knew,” Madara says, and Izuna blinks at him a few times. _What?_ “I talked to him about it. That’s why I was thinking about you last night. I missed you so much when you left, but I had him come over. I didn’t want to be alone. He urged me to tell you.”

Izuna presses his lips together. He needs to do something nice for Tobirama, but he’s so suddenly swept up by how stupidly _fond_ of that jackass he is that it takes him aback. “I’m glad he did, then. I’ll make sure to thank him in person when I go back to work.”

“I know it isn’t my fault. It’s just hard to believe it, but I will in time.” Madara smiles at him, and this time, it’s a true smile. It’s a tired smile, a little hurt, but it is his. “I do know that I believe that you love me, and that you’re going to treat me well and take care of me. And I need that so much right now. I just… I need everything you’ve been keeping from me. All of it. Even if it’s a little overwhelming, it’s what I need and want.”

“Then I’ll give you everything. Believe me, I’m looking forward to showing you just how much I’ve loved you all this time.” And always will. There could never be anyone else.

Breakfast goes by fairly quickly and then Izuna packs all the dishes into the dishwasher because he won’t be in the kitchen very much unless he needs to retrieve snacks. Madara heads upstairs to start moving his nest over while Izuna does that, and he imagines how cute Madara will look on his bed in that tiny little nightgown, arranging his pillows and blankets just the way he wants them. And the new ones that smell of Izuna.

His entire _nest_ is going to smell like them, and Izuna groans at the thought of it.

Kurama eyes him from beneath the table and Izuna sighs, crouching down so he can look his cat in the face. “I won’t forget to feed you. I’m going to have a refractory period, you know. So you’ll get your food one way or another, you awful cretin.”

The cat meows at him, obviously mollified. Good. One less problem to worry about.

Izuna takes the stairs two at a time and glances into Madara’s room for only a moment, noting the nest has been taken down with a gleeful little kick in his stomach. He stops in his own doorway, suppressing a croon at the sight of his omega happily nesting.

It always yanks at his heart, watching an omega nest and listening to their soft, happy little chirps. It’s better still with Madara, who glows in white and who looks so perfectly at home in Izuna’s bed that he could not ask for more than this.

His nose picks up the faint scent of mint in the air. Right. Need to brush his teeth still.

If Izuna almost gags himself on the toothbrush in an effort to get his mouth thoroughly clean as quickly as possible, no one is in the room to prove that it ever happened.

He steps back into the bedroom just as Madara collapses against the mattress in the center of his nest, chirping and cooing as he burrows down against the blankets. It’s a sturdy nest for sure, one that Izuna croons at in appreciating as he walks around the side of the bed to climb up into it with Madara. He’s going to be spending his entire rut here.

Madara peeks up at him shyly from his blankets. “Alpha? Make good on your promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> izuna's finally going to DO IT you guys !!


	22. Chapter 22

“You know I’m more than happy to give you what you want, omega.” Izuna leans down, clever fingers wrapping around Madara’s blankets and yanking them down just so he can drop a kiss on Madara’s lips. “Don’t hide from me. I’ve been waiting just to look at you.”

Madara shivers and rolls onto his back, his breath catching in his throat at Izuna’s low growl of appreciation as he leans over him. Even now, Izuna is smaller than him, slimmer and shorter, but he feels impossibly big hovering over Madara right now, all rich peppery scent and the hot musk of his rut. Nothing in the world has ever been able to dampen that scent. Madara grew up with him and remembers the complaints from friends at school that Izuna’s scent was too aggressive for most of them to tolerate near his cycle.

He smells amazing to Madara and sounds twice as good when he growls again, a low rumbling sound in the base of his throat as he swoops down to kiss him again. It lingers against his lips this time, not as fervent and needy as he expects. Izuna is going slowly.

It must be torture to him. Madara can feel the warmth rolling off of his skin and can’t imagine him being able to hold out very long, and yet he’s trying to do just that.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them for days.” Izuna catches Madara’s lower lip between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug before running his tongue across it.

“Not going to stop you.” And they have at least two days together at that, possibly longer if Izuna’s rut is uncharacteristically longer than usual. “But you promised, Alpha.”

Izuna’s breath shudders against Madara’s lips as long fingers trace the line of his jaw, down into the slope of his throat that Madara immediately bares. Trusting Izuna with this is simple, something he did not think was possible. “Mm, I did, didn’t I? But I still want to take my time getting to know your body. It’s such a pretty one, after all.”

He sounds so much like the alpha from Madara’s occasional dreamlike fantasies that he wonders if that alpha was always meant to wear his brother’s face.

“I’ve waited so long to get to touch you like this. It doesn’t feel as though it’s real.” Izuna kisses him again, tongue nudging against the seam of his lips.

Madara eagerly opens his mouth to his little brother, shivering when Izuna’s fingers find the pale white lace along his collarbones. He knows just how to touch Madara to make him respond as if he already knows what Madara likes, already knows how to tease him. What is there left for him to learn when he already knows how to touch Madara like this?

“So pretty.” Izuna looks down at him, his pupils dilated, a shinier black against his dark irises as he brushes his thumb against the hollow of Madara’s throat. “I’ve dreamed of having you right here in my bed. Nesting so prettily for me. And here you are.”

“Dreamed, hmm?” Madara can relate to that. Wanting better, wanting more, wanting this.

Izuna nods, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nipping at his jaw before nudging it up with his nose. Teeth scrape against Madara’s skin and he whines softly because he wants that, wants Izuna’s lips and tongue and teeth. “How could I not? I grew up beside the perfect omega. I was bound to have a few wandering fantasies about you.”

“I’m not going to fault you for that.” It makes something almost selfish inside of him glow with pride to know Izuna thought so highly of him for such a long time.

And now Madara can give him what he wants, what he richly deserves as an alpha.

“It at least give me an idea of what I want to do with you so I won’t be fumbling like a virgin the entire time.” Izuna rolls his eyes and Madara bites back a giggle at his words, gasping when Izuna’s lips press against his skin. He sucks the thin flesh where Madara’s pulse beats firmest, palming his shoulder. “And there is so much I want to do with you.”

“Show me, Alpha. I’ve been waiting so long for someone to take care of me.” Madara does not let his voice quaver on those words. Not this time. Not with his little brother.

Izuna lifts his head to look down at Madara once more, and something confusing flashes through his eyes before he smiles. It’s soft and sad and makes Madara’s stomach hurt, because he doesn’t want Izuna being bothered with this right now. Maybe later, if he wants to talk about it, though Madara would rather never talk about it again. All he wants to do is fill his life with Izuna’s love so he never has to think about before.

“You’ll never have to wait again. The moment you want me, you’ll have me. Any way you want me.” Izuna kisses Madara on the nose, grinning when Madara can’t help a small giggle.

“Well, I want you now.” He chances stretching a hand up to catch Izuna’s ponytail, tugging him down by it so he can give him a proper kiss. “And I want you inside of me.”

He can almost feel Izuna’s smirk against his own lips. “In due time. The nightgown is pretty, Nii-san. You should leave it on. I’m sure I can find a way to work around it.”

Another kiss cuts Madara off before he can ask what Izuna means— And then he feels it, a hand twisting in the bottom of the gown and hiking it up around his hips. Madara lifts as much as he can with Izuna half-pinning him in place, shuddering at the cool air that drifts over his heated skin. It may just be a false heat, but it feels like the real thing.

Izuna rucks the gown all the way up over Madara’s chest, fingers skimming over one of his nipples. Chuckling when he jumps. “Ah, I like this. You look so pretty laid out for me.”

“Do something about it.” Madara doesn’t mean for the words to sound challenging and is alarmed for just a moment, worried that Izuna might be upset with him for that—

“Gladly.” Izuna presses a knee between Madara’s thighs, nudging them apart until he can crawl between them, hands sinking into the mattress beside Madara’s ribs.

He kisses just under the edge of the nightgown where it rests on Madara’s chest, then immediately skips down to run his tongue over a nipple. Madara whines softly and closes his eyes, unable to ignore how sensitive his chest feels and how even the gentle brush of Izuna’s tongue is enough to excite him. It must excite Izuna too, his curious licks becoming harder and longer, dragging against Madara’s skin before he wraps his lips around Madara’s nipple and sucks. Whimpering, Madara arches his back, silently asking for more.

Izuna’s eyes dart up to meet his own gaze and Madara squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t handle the intensity in those eyes right now when he feels so vulnerable.

Fingers brush over his untouched nipple until it stiffens and then Izuna’s mouth is there too, teeth scraping against his skin and dragging a yelp from Madara’s throat. It stings in just the right way, and his thighs twitch wider apart in silent offering.

He wants Izuna to have all of him, to take all of him. He can trust him with that.

“Such pretty noises.” Izuna blows a cool breath over his chest and Madara wriggles at how it almost stings his nipples, still wet from Izuna’s tongue. “You’re so sensitive.”

“You’re good with your mouth,” Madara counters, and Izuna grins, giving his head a shake.

But he doesn’t argue the point. Instead, he kisses down Madara’s torso to his stomach, splaying a hand across the flat plane of it before looking up at him once more. Madara used to have stronger abdominal muscles than he does now, but… Things changed, things he knows he can change back if he wants to. He isn’t built the way he used to be.

He was proud of how he was built before, too. He worked hard for the body he had.

His mouth opens with the intention of offering an excuse, but he closes it when Izuna only smiles softly up at him and nuzzles his belly. “Pretty, pretty Nii-san. You’re going to be even prettier with a litter in you. Then I’ll have a real excuse to bulk you up.”

“Maybe you should stop talking and get to it, then.” Madara raises an eyebrow and Izuna chuckles up at him, then lays another kiss on his stomach. “Otouto, you’re so slow.”

“Once I’m between your legs, I’m not coming up for air.” Izuna grins, sharp with promise.

Madara swallows hard at the implication and thinks back to the dream, the fantasy of Izuna he touched himself to. The moment when his fantasy alpha looked up between his legs with his little brother’s eyes, and his stomach jolts at the thought of that becoming a reality soon. Safe and warm in his nest, in Izuna’s den, under Izuna’s hands.

“So I want to take my time getting down there, making sure I get plenty of air first.” Izuna brushes a kiss just below his navel, and Madara whines softly. “Besides, I probably won’t even want to come up for air when I could bury my tongue inside of you.”

Long, slender fingers brush Madara’s cock before curling around it, thumb stroking over the sensitive tip until a moan bursts free. “Nii-san really is so sensitive to my touch.”

“You’re teasing me.” Madara shifts his hips up and Izuna makes a noise at him, pressing them back down into the nest. “Izuna, please. Just… Do something. I need you to.”

Izuna smiles up at him before tilting his head, the tip of his tongue flicking against Madara’s shaft before he takes it easily between his lips. Omegas are traditionally small and so it’s easy for Izuna to just swallow him down, long lashes fluttering as he closes his eyes while he curls his tongue around Madara’s cock. Madara wants to do the same, just close his eyes and feel, but he can’t help but watch Izuna’s movements. Watch him slowly move his head, lips gliding along Madara’s swollen, needy flesh with care.

It feels so good. His mouth is so hot, his tongue wicked and wet as he curls and flicks it, licking hard over the head of Madara’s cock before taking him back down. It’s lewd and wet and he makes horribly exaggerated noises but Madara can only keen and try to hold still, not wanting to buck up against his mouth and risk choking him at all.

When fingers brush his swollen folds, though, he does jerk. Spreads his legs wider and invites Izuna’s touch without a second thought. He wants him, he  _ needs _ him.

“Everything about you is so intoxicating.” Izuna licks his lips, leaving them wet and shiny with spit as his eyes drop lower. Drop down to Madara’s pussy, where his fingers are just brushing the slit but not quite going any further. “You’re so wet for me, Nii-san.”

“Because I want you.” There’s no use in lying about it, or trying to cover the fact up. Madara does want him, in every way that Izuna wants him to. This just… Feels right.

And it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t be so easy to let another alpha touch him like this, but Izuna looks at him with a reverence he’s never seen in the eyes of another person before. Touches him like Madara is sacred ground he does not want to disturb. Loves him so wholly and fully that Madara will always feel at least a little foolish for not noticing before.

Izuna slips lower down his body to lay between his thighs, fingers toying with Madara’s cock while his other hand palms Madara’s hip. “Let me take care of you now.”

The first brush of his tongue sends a bolt of electricity through Madara’s body, his legs instantly spreading wider so Izuna can settle between them. He’s caught up in the hands on his skin, fingers cupping his hip and stroking his cock even as Izuna’s wicked tongue parts his folds and slips inside of him. There’s something so shameless about how he presses his mouth in closer even as he licks over Madara’s hole without dipping inside.

“You taste better than I thought you would. I can’t believe it.” Izuna laughs faintly and then licks inside of him, Madara trembling at his praise and his attention.

“Better than what you licked off your fingers?” He can’t help himself.

“Much better.” Izuna palms his cock, and his eyes are impossibly darker now, more intense. Almost predatory, but possessive, too. An alpha in rut looking up at his mate. “Lay back, omega. I’m going to be down here for as long as I can get away with it.”

He ducks his head down and Madara falls back against the mattress, bracing himself but still unprepared for the onslaught of licks. Izuna’s tongue is everywhere, lapping at his pussy before twisting inside of it again. The bridge of his nose bumps against the base of Madara’s cock with every shift of his head, sending shivery little bursts of heat through the blazing torrent already twisting its way through Madara’s body.

It’s hard not to think about how this is the first time anyone’s done this for him and Izuna does it with gusto. He’d been lewd with his mouth on Madara’s cock but now he’s noisy, little growling noises spilling from his lips and vibrating across Madara’s skin. It only makes Madara squirm harder, head thrown back against the pillows as his body trembles.

Izuna doesn’t stop stroking his cock, which only makes the pleasure rolling through his gut all the sharper and more noticeable. Every touch is enough to set him on fire and Madara pants through the heat of it, rocking down against his alpha’s mouth. He  _ needs _ him.

“Can I?” Izuna looks up at him and Madara whines when he feels fingers brush his folds, teasing near the edge of his entrance. “I’ll be so gentle with you, Nii-san.”

“You know I trust you.” Madara arches his hips slightly in offering, keening softly when Izuna’s fingers slip inside of him. They’re not as thick as his and Izuna is so gentle with him, probing inside of him like he thinks Madara is still hurting.

But he is touching him now, giving Madara what he wants. Long fingers that curl up against the front wall of his cunt, stroking where he’s most sensitive until his thighs shake. Izuna gives his folds one last lick and then wraps his lips back around Madara’s cock.

It’s too much sensation. Too much pleasure. Too much sharp and hot and tight and Madara was not made to hold on through this. He moans and whimpers, tangling his fingers in Izuna’s hair even as his body starts to writhe and buck with his coming orgasm.

Izuna folds a third finger inside of him and that breaks him, the stretch and the intensity slamming into him so hard it winds him. Madara yowls and rides his fingers, face burning as he feels himself drench Izuna’s fingers. It’s almost embarrassing, or at least it would be if Izuna didn’t immediately pull his fingers free just to shove his face down there again.

The gentle strokes of his tongue are soft enough not to feel like too much, and Madara slumps back against the nest as he lets Izuna clean him up. Sweet little kitten licks and the occasional low rumble, like this is exactly what Izuna has been wanting.

His breath hitches when Izuna tucks two of his fingers back inside, testing and teasing tender muscle until Madara trembles with it. “Otouto… Alpha, what are you doing?”

“I need you to be ready for my cock, don’t I? I don’t want to hurt you, even on accident.” Izuna kisses at Madara’s softening cock and then straightens up, kneeling between his thighs even as he works his fingers steadily deeper. “Need you nice and relaxed and wet for me so you can take me all the way in. So I can knot you properly.”

Madara ignores the slight frisson of unease in his gut, reminding himself that this is Izuna, who will take care of him and put his needs first. This is Izuna, who has loved him for years and kept that to himself because he wanted Madara to be happy.

Sex with him is going to be fine, and safe, and absolutely not painful like it used to be.

“Thank you.” Madara relaxes back into the mattress, whining at the way Izuna rubs at his inner walls as his toes curl helplessly in the sheets. Everything feels so  _ good. _

Too good, maybe he’s a little sensitive, but he’s drunk on the pleasure and the blissed-out expression in Izuna’s eyes as he moves up to three fingers once again. Madara could come again from this but tries not to because then he’d be too swollen for sex, and he wants that. He wants Izuna inside of him, wants to feel the bright hot stretch of his cock.

Wants his knot and his pups and the promise of forever that Izuna offers him.

“So,  _ so _ perfect for me, omega. You let me have such nice things, touching you like this.” Izuna pets at the curve of his hip, fingers tracing the dip at his waist. “You’ll look so pretty when you’re carrying and I’m going to do nothing but spoil you.”

He means it. He means it, and Madara knows he means it. It’s Izuna. Madara believes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> madara needed and deserved to be eaten out. next chapter izuna finally gets what he wants.


	23. Chapter 23

“Do you want to be beneath me like this?” Izuna asks, careful as he slips a fourth finger into Madara’s cunt. He’s soaking wet and it is so easy to open him up like this that Izuna goes a little dizzy at the sight of slick wetting his palm. “Or do you want me to mount you?”

The second question has Madara’s eyes dimming slightly as he turns his head away, and Izuna bites back a growl as he pets Madara’s hip once more. “Like this, please, Alpha.”

“You don’t have to ask so nicely. Don’t have to take that soft, pleading tone. Not with me.” Izuna forces himself to pull his hand free from between Madara’s legs, fumbling his shirt over his head and shoving his boxers down before pitching it all out of the nest. In the  _ way. _ “Just tell me what you want. Or demand it, even, that could be sexy.”

Madara eyes him from beneath dark lashes before giving a small nod. “I’ll do my best.”

“Mm, I know you will. I’m so proud of you.” Izuna makes sure Madara is watching him when he wraps the hand wet with Madara’s slick around his cock, groaning at how it feels against his own sensitive cock. The sharp edge of need is right there, demanding he bury himself inside of something warm and tight, and he hasn’t been with an omega since university.

Only to spend a few unsatisfying ruts with friends he apologized to profusely because none of that worked for him. None of it sated the need deep in his loins, and none of it was ever good enough to call someone back. It bruised his ego, but it was what it was.

Now with Madara here, he feels bright and alive and ready to please his omega, to take Madara as his mate. There is no one else standing between them, no more hesitation and uncertainty, nothing but Madara looking up at him, his thighs spread around Izuna’s knees, the sweet taste of his orgasm still heavy on Izuna’s tongue. This is perfect.

He lets go of his cock just to drag his fingers between Madara’s parted folds once more, eyes going heavy at how velvety hot he is. “You’re going to feel amazing, omega.”

“You could get around to finding out,” Madara says, and Izuna’s lips quirk up into a small smile at the agitated tone of his voice. But he understands it, because the sweet scent of heat is heavier in the room than it was before Izuna started touching him.

Madara is really in heat. And he’s going to take Izuna’s knot and his come and his  _ pups _ —

_ “Izuna.” _ The tone is a snap more than anything else, and Izuna’s cock jumps at the sound. His breathing goes a little heavier at the annoyance in Madara’s eyes as he catches Izuna by the wrist, dragging his fingers away. “You are making me wait far too long.”

It’s probably just his heat making him jump so quick to annoyance— That might have been punishable once. Izuna will never hurt him for this. “I’m sorry. Let me rectify that.”

He knows better than to tease Madara now but he still drags the head of his cock over Madara’s hole once before pressing the head inside. And he takes it slow not to tease but to be cautious, well aware that Madara has been hurt here. Hurt here in horrible, awful ways that no one should ever be, over and over. Izuna… Could feel the scars inside when he touched him and tried to be as careful as possible because it’s  _ Madara. _

If he feels a little sick because of it, so be it. He’s in rut. He can cope with it.

“O-oh.” Madara shivers and squeezes his eyes shut, and Izuna freezes, afraid he hurt him.

“Are you all right?” He stretches a hand down to touch Madara’s cheek, prepared to ease himself out and switch to something less invasive if that’s what Madara needs.

Madara nods, turning to nose against his palm. “I’m okay. It’s just… It feels so good.”

Relief courses through Izuna’s veins as he nods, letting Madara kiss against his palm as he rolls his hips to sink deeper into Madara’s body. He’s tight but welcoming, sweet heat that wraps around Izuna’s cock and invites him deeper until he’s shuddering with every few centimeters inside. This is far better than his hand and feels right, feels like this is where he’s supposed to be. Not with his friends in university. Not all by himself.

Here with Madara, watching him try to muffle soft, startled gasps against Izuna’s fingers.

“So good, Nii-san.” Izuna rolls his hips and both of them groan. His nerves feel so sensitive they’re almost raw. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you and I’m going to  _ keep _ you.”

He doesn’t mean it to come out that sharp and possessive, but the dark flare of desire in Madara’s eyes has him not regretting a single syllable. “You better mean it.”

“I’ll prove it.” Not like this he can’t, not from this position, but Madara needs him right here for now, and Izuna is more than willing to wait a little longer for him.

If Madara makes him wait years for the bond bite, Izuna will not say a word about it.

Madara hooks a leg around his waist and Izuna pets a hand down his thigh in appreciation, shivering as he finally slides in deep enough to bottom out. A small, choked sound leaves his lips when his cock  _ brushes _ something, seated so deep inside he can feel that there’s no more room for him to go. Madara only pants and squirms, whining softly. He shifts his hips and whines louder when it rubs Izuna right up against him, all of him.

Fuck, that’s his cerivx. Izuna is so deep inside of him that there really is nowhere for him to go, and it makes his blood blaze so hot he feels like he’s burning alive.

Madara is literally just deep enough for Izuna to fit inside of him, wrapped tight around him but not so tight he can’t move. Like their bodies were made to fit together just like this, carved and shaped against each other. For a moment, Izuna cannot even breathe.

“Are you all right?” He brushes his thumb along Madara’s lower lip, laughing softly when Madara promptly nips him before pushing his face back into Izuna’s hand. “Take your time.”

Alphas have complained before that rut makes it impossible for them to be careful, blaming their hormones for sex rougher than their partner wants it. Izuna thinks this is bullshit, and now he knows it is. According to some people, he should be unable to control himself, unable to slow down or stop, but his instincts are loud and clear. Screaming at him that Madara has been hurt, that Madara needs him to be gentle.

He needs Izuna to be his alpha. Needs Izuna to care for him where nobody else has.

“I love you so much.” His voice almost breaks but he refuses to let it, stroking Madara’s cheek and delighting in the way his brother purrs for him, looking up at him shyly.

“I believe you. I love you, too.” Madara shifts against him, whimpering softly when it rubs Izuna against his cervix. He must be so sensitive right now, coming down from orgasm but with an alpha’s cock so deep inside. “Move, otouto, please. I need you to move.”

Izuna slips his hand down to take Madara’s instead, lacing their fingers together and holding onto him tight as he slowly eases out of the tight grip of his pussy. “Yes, omega.”

Every stroke of his cock has him shuddering and groaning, so stupidly noisy now that he’s inside of Madara. He’s masturbated in rut a thousand times before and it never feels as good as this does, never feels so blindingly hot and perfect. Never makes him just want to bury himself down against Madara’s body and cling to him, barely moving, just to be close and warm. The soft ridged walls that grip him rub against his shaft and draw him back in, his omega’s body telling Izuna that he needs to stay, needs to come inside.

Madara reaches for him and he leans over, bracing on a forearm as he brings his lips to Madara’s once more. Strong fingers catch his ponytail to keep him down and he acquiesces, shifting on his knees, laying his hips between his brother’s strong thighs.

“Izuna.” Madara’s hips roll up against his and he bites back a cry, shoving his face against Izuna’s shoulder so hard it feels like it should hurt. “Alpha, please.”

“I’m here. I’ve got you.” Izuna cups the back of his neck, pressing his fingers against the skin there as he works himself slow and ease inside of Madara’s body. “So good for me, omega, so sweet and soft. You fit so perfectly around me like I was made for you.”

A soft hitching breath against his shoulder worries him again, but it’s only Madara choking on small noises before his teeth find purchase and snag at Izuna’s shoulder.

Not deep enough to bite. Not deep enough to claim. Not all alphas even  _ let _ their omegas claim them in return, but all Izuna can do is imagine Madara’s teeth deep in his throat.

“You’re safe. I’m here.” Izuna is careful with the way he rocks his hips, taking his time. Letting his pretty omega feel every slow stroke of his cock where he needs it the most, letting him just relish the sensation of Izuna making love to him.

He tucks his face in against Madara’s hair and closes his eyes, wrapping his arm around Madara and holding him close as he takes him. His nose twitches and twitches, his senses overcome by sweet omega scent and pleasure and arousal, and no fear, no pain, no worry. Izuna is so relieved to know he hasn’t scared him, isn’t too much for him, hasn’t made him cry because he thinks it would kill him if Madara was in pain because of him.

“Omega,” he murmurs, arm trembling faintly where he has it wrapped around Madara’s waist, voice so soft, so reverent. Only for Madara. Everything that Izuna is is  _ only _ for him.

Madara licks at the marks he’s left in Izuna’s shoulder, moaning against his skin as Izuna rocks up against the firm barrier of his cervix. Careful, so careful because he doesn’t want to hurt Madara. Can only imagine how he must have felt before, bruised and scared.

Izuna tilts his head to kiss him, urging Madara’s lips to meet his own. Completely enraptured by the wet curl of Madara’s tongue against his own, the soft heat of their lips meeting over and over again. It’s dizzying, kissing him and fucking him and devouring all the little moans that Izuna coaxes free just with the slow, easy motions of his hips.

And Madara kisses him back, keeps his leg around Izuna’s waist, fingers digging into his arms as if he thinks Izuna is going somewhere. As if he ever would.

“Fuck.” Izuna presses his forehead against Madara’s, sucking in air through his mouth as he shifts so he can press in a little smoother. Every time his cockhead touches Madara’s cervix, it sends a quiver down his spine. “I could stay inside of you forever.”

Madara whimpers and shoves his tongue back into Izuna’s mouth, and Izuna lets him. Eases the frantic pace of his kiss into something softer and more manageable. He doesn’t want Madara to panic, to be anxious. Just wants him to be soothed and loved, to feel wrapped up in the safety net of Izuna’s body and affection and promise to take care of him.

He couldn’t do it before. He failed before. He completely fucked up every chance he had of taking care of Madara the first time, and he’s not going to make that mistake again.

“I-Izuna.” Madara squirms against him and Izuna shudders because his knot is starting to swell and starting to catch at the edge of Madara’s pussy, but not quite. Not yet. “You promised. I want it, Alpha, please, you promised me you’d breed me.”

“Are you sure you want it?” He has to ask. He absolutely needs to know it’s what Madara wants, that it isn’t Izuna projecting his own fantasies onto his recovering brother.

Madara nods up at him, his leg tightening around Izuna’s waist. As if he wants him to stop moving. “I want it,” he whines, and Izuna whimpers pitifully in response because his omega sounds so needy and sweet, so totally wrecked. “I want your knot, Alpha, you said I could have it. I want your pups  _ please. _ Come in me, Izuna, otouto, I  _ need _ it.”

“So do I.” Izuna kisses him again, presses him back down into the nest and tangles his fingers in Madara’s hair. Their lips keep meeting, sloppy and wet. “I need it so bad.”

His omega coos up at him so sweetly that it makes his chest ache. “You’ve been waiting so long, Alpha. Don’t wait anymore. Knot me.  _ Breed me. _ I want it, please, fill me up—”

“Fuck, Nii-san.” Izuna grapples for purchase in the nest, fingers knotting in blankets as he shoves his hips up against Madara’s one last time to tie their bodies together.

His knot pushes at Madara’s pussy, opening it up wide enough to accept the swell of it, and Madara makes a high, thin noise when Izuna’s cockhead presses against her cervix again. His knot keeps it there and Izuna trembles violently, teeth clenched, head bowed as the pressure in his gut expands and then  _ bursts. _ His knot locks tight into place and he wails, head thrown back. His orgasm just keeps going, keeps coiling hot in his loins and spilling inside of Madara. There’s nowhere for it to go but inside and it makes him shake.

It’s impossible to miss the way fingers dig into his arms so hard he’ll bruise, Madara bucking up against him. He makes sweet little hiccuping sounds when he comes, his eyes squeezing shut as he ripples and pulses and soaks Izuna’s cock. So wet and hot, so perfect, taking everything that Izuna gives him while his body begs for more. Arching and writhing up against him, as if all he wants to do is get closer.

Madara full of his cock and knot and come, Madara bred for him, Madara smelling milky sweet and lax in his nest, arms cradling his swelling belly as he chirps for Izuna to come lay down with him, to feel the pups kicking, to hold them when they’re still small—

Tiny and helpless and Izuna will keep them safe, will fight to protect them. He’s old enough now, strong enough now, to protect everyone he loves and everyone who means so much to him. He can protect Madara this time, and he will  _ not _ fail him.

A soft, broken sound leaves his throat as he slowly sinks down against Madara’s body, burying his face in dark, rumpled hair as he tries to calm himself down. Things are fine now. Madara is here, curled up against his chest, purring deep and pleased against him. There is absolutely no reason to think about anything that has happened to him.

Madara is safe and satisfied and wrapping his arms around Izuna to pull him closer.

“Thank you, otouto.” Madara drags his tongue up the side of Izuna’s neck and he swallows back a small sound and giggles instead, craning his head so Madara can reach his neck easily. “But you have to do it more than once, you know. Because we have to be sure.”

“Of course. I’ll give you as much as you need. As much as I can.” As if he would be upset about staying nestled between Madara’s thighs, sinking his knot in sweet and deep.

Izuna is glad he’s smaller than Madara, that his weight is easy to bare, so they can stay knotted together like this. He lets his head fall all the way to the side when Madara keeps grooming his neck and shoulder, rumbling softly as he enjoys the gentle attention.

Madara noses the side of his neck and purrs right up against his skin. “Thank you for taking such good care of me. Sex hasn’t felt that good for me in a very long time.”

“I’ll make it feel that good for you every single time. However you want it. I’m just happy to give you what you need.” Izuna tilts his head so he can kiss Madara’s jaw, teeth nipping at his skin and enjoying the way Madara mewls softly for him. “So pretty. Such a perfect omega. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but right here with you.”

“Then stay here. You never have to leave.” Madara peeks up through his lashes like he thinks Izuna will just walk away from him. As if he could ever go through with that.

But Madara may still need reassurance, so Izuna cuddles down against him, slipping his arms under his brother’s body to hug him closer. “I guess I’ll have to do just that.”

Madara chirps in his ear and Izuna smiles softly, reaching for a blanket to pull over himself so he can cage his body warmth in for Madara. It’s so rewarding to listen to Madara making small happy noises in his ear, trailing up and down his spine, tongue lapping gently at his neck once more. Such a sweet omega,  _ his _ sweet omega. Because no one is going to come between them now. Izuna will challenge any alpha who tries.

But for now, he just basks in the warm affection of his omega and comforts himself with the image of Madara pregnant and glowing.  _ Soon, _ he thinks. Because he isn’t going to waste this rut. He isn’t going to waste another minute not buried inside of Madara.

After all, he promised his omega he’d give him the pups he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which izuna makes sweet, tender love to his big brother finally~
> 
> obligatory social media message: if you want to chat, come hang out on twitter [@shotamadara](https://twitter.com/shotamadara) OR if you want to talk and are shy, come hang out at [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/shotamadara) where i have anon enabled!
> 
> thank you guys again for all the support <333333


	24. Chapter 24

Izuna’s rut comes to its end three days after it begins, which is typical of his cycle. He stretches languidly in Madara’s nest and pats the space next to him, frowning when he finds the bed empty but still warm where his omega was just a moment before. Logic says that Madara is probably just in the bathroom or slipped downstairs to feed Kurama, but instinct is concerned that Madara may need Izuna to come find him and bring him back.

He should be back to normal soon, hopefully. Now that Madara knows the truth, now that Izuna no longer has to worry about hiding his feelings, everything should be fine.

No sooner does he climb out of the nest and find his robe on the floor than Madara returns to the bedroom. From downstairs, and Kurama is not trying to sneak into the room once again, so he probably fed him. The cat has been unbearable the last two days.

“Nii-san,” Izuna greets him, tying the sash around his waist. He needs to shower off the sweat, semen, and slick from last night, but he needs to check on Madara first.

“Otouto.” Madara offers him a shy smile and Izuna croons to him, opening his arms and inviting Madara into his own. He has another nightgown on, though the fabric is not transparent, so the micro-heat he went through in line with Izuna’s rut must be over.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Izuna asks, taking Madara into his arms and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Not the lips, because he hasn’t brushed his teeth yet.

Madara sighs softly and rests his head on Izuna’s shoulder, purring softly against his neck and drawing a little shivery sigh from Izuna’s lips. “Wonderful. How did you sleep, Alpha?”

“Perfectly with you next to me.” Izuna usually sleeps like a corpse during his ruts, but being with Madara only deepened that. He was exhausted every time he actually went to sleep. Best rest he must have had in years. “What about you? When did you get up?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Kurama was crying at the door, so I went to give him food and water.” Madara’s hands smooth up Izuna’s back, cupping over his shoulder blades.

Izuna rolls his eyes.  _ Of course it was the cat.  _ “I’m glad you slept plenty, then. How are you feeling? I, ah… Hope I could satisfy you while I was all over the place.”

“You were hardly all over the place, Izuna. You were a wonderful alpha and a fantastic lover.” Madara kisses his neck and Izuna smiles, his lashes fluttering slightly as he cuddles his omega against his chest. What a sweet, gorgeous man he has all to himself now.

He tucks his face into Madara’s hair and just holds him for a moment, letting himself revel the feeling of Madara in his arms where he should have always been. This is how life should have worked out for the two of them. Izuna is absolutely certain of that.

Maybe if he could have told Madara the truth sooner, but there is no reason to think like that right now. Not when Madara is purring for him, letting Izuna hold him and touch him and give him the love and affection he deserves. He wants to apologize but knows that Madara would forgive him and has no desire to take away the lightness of the mood, not when Madara is happy. Making him miserable is the last thing Izuna has ever wanted.

He kisses Madara’s hair, tangling his fingers in the great fluffy mass of it. “We should shower and breakfast, hmm? I can cook you something. You seem to like my cooking.”

“You spoiled me with the last couple of days already,” Madara whines, but his tone of voice clearly makes it sound like he wouldn’t mind being spoiled just a little more. And Izuna is more than happy to spoil him. “You’ll have to start cooking more food, though.”

“Hmm? Was I not making enough before?” Izuna thinks back. Madara most definitely ate everything he was given while the two of them were working through Izuna’s rut, but he could make more. It would be easy to increase portion size. Maybe double or triple it.

“You were making more than enough before.” Madara leans back to look up at him, and Izuna really is just struck by how beautiful he is. Just stunning, especially with the healthy glow and glittering eyes. He must have been doing an excellent job during his rut for his omega to be looking up at him like he just hung the moon and stars.

Izuna cocks his head, but he’s in a good mood and just rolls with it. “Well, I can always make more, if you want. I can make whatever you want me to make. Just let me know.”

Madara’s smile widens and tips toward something like a smirk before he nods, leaning in to peck Izuna on the nose. “I can tell you just woke up. You’re so slow, Izuna.”

“What?” Izuna blinks at him, though he can’t help a small, ridiculous little smile at the gentle brush of Madara’s lips. It makes him want to go and brush his teeth right now so he can drag Madara back to bed and kiss him until both of them are dizzy and breathless.

“Nothing.” Madara kisses him on the jaw this time and Izuna closes his eyes. It just feels so nice, better than his dreams could ever make it feel. “We do need to talk, though.”

There is a slight icy twist in his gut but Izuna ignores it and nods, because they do. There is more than enough for the two of them to talk about. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I didn’t want to do this while you were in rut because… Well. You were in rut.” Madara looks at him meaningfully and Izuna breathes slow and easy through the coil of anxiety in his throat. Does Madara not want him after all? “And I know you wouldn’t have hurt me, but it gets bloody. And I just wanted you to be careful going about it.”

“Bloody?” Izuna echoes, not sure he heard that correct. “Nii-san, are you all right?”

Madara nods, pressing his fingers into Izuna’s shoulder blades. “Of course I’m all right. But you promised to mark me, didn’t you? To mate me. And you haven’t done that yet.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Izuna nods, and the tension and unease fades as quickly as it surged through his body. “I did. You just wanted to wait until I was out of rut for that?”

“I know you wouldn’t have hurt me, but you were… Excitable, and I just wanted you to be careful.” Madara tucks his face back into Izuna’s throat, and Izuna lets him. As if he could ever fault Madara for that when he knows exactly why Madara would be worried.

“It’s fine that you wanted to wait.” Izuna pulls him just a little closer, nuzzling down into his hair again, taking in the sweet scent of happy omega and— Something else? “I would wait as long as you wanted me to wait. I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.”

“Okay. Well. After we shower? Because I don’t exactly want shampoo and conditioner getting in an open wound.” Madara shudders and Izuna laughs and kisses his hair again.

He starts the shower and tugs the nightgown up and over Madara’s head while they wait for the water to heat, tossing it and his robe into the laundry basket. Most of today will probably be spent on laundry so that the nest will be nice and warm and clean when they slip into it tonight. He should probably spare time to send Tobirama an email to make sure work has been fine without him, but Izuna is selfish. He wants to wait until tomorrow.

Today, he wants to make sure Madara rests, and to rest his own tired body. Not having to deal with his rut alone is a godsend, but that much sex after so long without is tiring.

“It won’t hurt, you know,” Izuna tells him, pulling Madara against his chest, running his hands over soft bare skin to help him stay warm. “I’ll make sure you’re relaxed and receptive before I ever try to bite you. It’ll sting, but it isn’t meant to hurt.”

“I know. There was a lot of pressure at the ceremony. Which is why I just want to do it here alone with just the two of us.” Madara noses at his throat and Izuna lets him, letting his brother right in close to his scent glands. If Madara needs the comfort, so be it.

Izuna slips a hand under his hair, fingers kneading the nape of his neck as Madara sighs softly into his skin. “Just like this. So that you’ll be warm and relaxed for me. Right? You trust me, Nii-san, and I’d never do anything that would betray your trust.”

“I know.” Madara kisses him on the neck and Izuna wavers just a little on his feet. He’s never going to be used to this. Not even if he has a lifetime to process it.

They spend less time in the shower than they have been the last couple of days, mostly because Izuna is not trying to turn it into a chance to try out shower sex again. All he does is pamper his soon-to-be mate, ensuring that Madara is taken care of and happy.

And as soon as he gets out of the shower and has a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair towel-dried enough to not constantly drip down his shoulders, Izuna grabs a toothbrush. He chooses to ignore the way Madara laughs behind him as he goes about brushing the tangles out of his hair, attacking his own mouth with gusto.

Sue him. He wants to kiss his brother. He has so many years to make up for now.

Madara sidles up next to him at the sink, bumping his hip against Izuna’s own. “Scoot over.”

“Impatient.” Izuna spits a mouthful of frothy foam into the sink, then shoves his brush back into his mouth but gives Madara the room to brush his own teeth.

He stands back and eyes Madara’s body as he does, ensuring himself there are no tense muscles and shamelessly admiring the marks he has left on Madara’s skin. There are pinkish little marks where he bit but not hard enough to bleed, hickeys everywhere Izuna was allowed to put his mouth for an extended period of time. One particularly pretty one is hidden by the towel, a bluish purple flower on the inside of Madara’s thigh.

Maybe he got his head crushed for that one, but it was well worth it.

He rinses his toothbrush and uses mouthwash, then dries his lips off with a hand towel. “There’s no alcohol in the mouthwash, by the way. If you were worried about that.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about it, but I’m glad you said something.” Madara rinses his own toothbrush off and Izuna smiles, tucking his face in against Madara’s shoulder for a moment as he pours himself some mouthwash. “Are you always this cuddly, Alpha?”

“With you? Ridiculously so, yeah.” Izuna palms his waist and Madara rolls his eyes.

“I’m not minding it.” Madara shrugs and Izuna hides a smile against his still-warm skin.

He combs his fingers through Madara’s damp hair, brushing it aside enough so he can tuck his nose in against Madara’s scent gland. It might be idiotic of him to feel the need to check for the sweet notes of satisfaction and anticipation in Madara’s scent, but this is the first time Izuna has been allowed to feel something in conjunction with his instincts.

But when he inhales, that sweet other scent catches his attention. Less muddled now that Madara is clean, because an omega’s natural scent is so much stronger than any soap.

He might not have recognized it on his own merits, that being said. Izuna has never been around a pregnant omega in his life through virtue of no omega he knows starting a family yet, and the city is crowded enough for him to not pick up any individual scent very well unless it’s one he knows. But his alpha hindbrain has been in fine form the last few days and it instantly identifies the scent melding with Madara’s as a sweet, milky one.

Madara is pregnant.

Izuna stiffens against his back and Madara chuckles, leaning back into his arms, fingers slipping up into Izuna’s hair to hold him where he is. “Did you finally figure it out?”

“Nii-san?” Izuna nuzzles deeper against his throat, the hand at Madara’s waist slipping around to rest carefully on top of his stomach. “Tell me if I’m understanding it wrong.”

He isn’t, and he knows that. An excited little noise is muffled against Madara’s skin as Izuna presses his nose right against his brother’s sensitive gland to inhale. The savory sweet smokey scent he knows so well is there, warm and mellow, and threaded carefully through that is that scent again. The scent that means his brother has been bred.

“You’re right,” Madara tells him, lacing his fingers through where Izuna’s are trembling minutely against his stomach. “That’s exactly what you think it is, Izuna.”

The rumble pulls up deep from his stomach and Izuna plasters himself against Madara’s back, nuzzling into his skin and clinging to him.  _ Pregnant. _ It feels too good to be true but Izuna can smell it on his skin and in his scent and there is no misunderstanding this.

“I guess this means you were right about me being in heat properly instead of just a false heat.” Madara tilts his head and kisses Izuna on the jaw, and Izuna croons at him, the sound warbling in his throat on top of his own rumbling. “Are you pleased, Alpha?”

Izuna does not even have the words to speak right now, wrapping his arms around Madara just so he can palm his stomach with both hands. Pregnant. Pregnant with  _ Izuna’s pups, _ just like Izuna promised him he would be. Just like he swore he would make happen.

Finally, Izuna does something right, and Madara is absolutely glowing about it.

“Can I just…” Izuna trails off and just falls to his knees on the tiles, uncaring of the sting in them as he fumbles for Madara to turn around. “I just want to… I just need to—”

“Go ahead.” Madara combs his fingers through Izuna’s hair and then tugs his face forward, inviting Izuna to do exactly what he wants to do. “I want you to do that, too, you know.”

Of course he does. Madara has been starved of a loving alpha. Izuna is the first one.

He tucks his face in against Madara’s stomach, rumbling against his skin as he nuzzles and kisses his flat stomach. It will be some time before the pups grow large enough for them to make an impression beneath his skin, but that does not change the fact Izuna knows they’re here. He can smell them, and the way Madara coos down at him reinforces that. His omega is pregnant, his omega that Izuna is about to sit down with and make his mate.

Madara’s fingers sift through his hair while Izuna covers his stomach in kisses. It’s so easy to imagine their pups, small and dark-haired and dark-eyed. Just as beautiful as their mother is. Izuna wants to crow with excitement but he lives in a  _ neighborhood, _ so.

“We’re going to take good care of you,” he whispers against Madara’s skin, rubbing his cheek against Madara’s belly to scent his skin properly. Once he marks Madara and they start scent-sharing properly, no alpha will so much as sniff around him, but just to be safe.

“That’s why I said you’re going to have to start making more food. Omegas need to eat more when they’re carrying.” Madara taps him on the top of the head and Izuna makes a noise to let him know he heard, not willing to tear himself away from Madara’s belly right now. Pregnant with his pups. Carrying for him. “Otousama only had one at a time, but…”

Izuna knows that, but he doesn’t want to think about Tajima right now. All he wants to think about is Madara, giving his brother’s stomach a little kitten lick. “I’m going to make you a huge breakfast then. I was already going to but now I have more incentive to.”

“You’re excited, right?” Madara keeps petting his hair and Izuna croons, because of course he is. He almost broke his kneecaps to get down here. “You think I’ll be a good mom, then?”

“Of course I do. You’ll be the best mom.” Izuna can see it in his mind’s eye. Madara with his arms full of their children, how much they’re going to love him. How those kids will all grow up loved and cherished in a way that he and Madara never were, that their family will be held together tightly with trust and compassion. “I can’t believe this. Nii-san, I’m so… Happy doesn’t describe it. Ecstatic? Elated? I’m stupid. I’m just happy you’re pregnant.”

“Me, too.” Madara touches his cheek and Izuna looks up at him as he wraps his arms around Madara’s waist, hoping his face conveys even half of how adoring he is of his brother. “I wanted pups, you know, I just… Didn’t want them with him. I wanted them to be safe.”

“They will be. I’ll keep all of you safe. You know I will.” Izuna kisses his stomach gently but meaningfully, and Madara chirps softly down at him and drags him up to his feet to give him the proper kiss that Izuna has wanted since the moment he woke up.

It finally feels like his life can begin just the way he wants it to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they deserve it!


	25. Chapter 25

While crawling back into the nest is certainly a temptation for something like this, Madara refuses to go near it when most of the fabric is damp from a combination of bodily fluids and he just showered. So he lets Izuna spend the extra ten minutes to pin his hair up above the nape of his neck and follows him downstairs to the couch. It’s the sole place the two of them have plenty of room to sit that will still allow Izuna to get his teeth where he needs them, pressing into the nape of Madara’s neck with enough force to scar.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Of course it will hurt a little. Even the bonding ceremony with Hashirama was not painless, and that was when everything between them was good.

Izuna tucks his back against the arm of the couch and spreads his legs, the open space between them where Madara is meant to sit. “Are you still sure about this?”

“Yes.” Madara refuses to twist his hands in his shirt, to look indecisive when he knows Izuna will interpret it as him being uncertain, or lying. He knows what he wants, even if the idea of pain still makes him skittish. “Of course I want this. For us. For… For them, too.”

His hand wanders to his stomach once more and Izuna’s eyes drop to follow the motion, his lids growing heavy as a pleased rumble rolls through his lips. It is far too early for them to be this happy and settled with the idea of Madara being pregnant, but he can be careful. Take the utmost care of himself and ensure the pregnancy remains viable.

If Tajima could do that while suffering in silence, Madara can do it while thriving.

He takes the hand Izuna offers him and sits down on the couch, twisting around to press his back against Izuna’s chest. Being wrapped up in his alpha’s arms settles him in a way nothing else ever has before and he mews softly at how nice it feels. Then Izuna’s lips brush just beneath his hairline and Madara shivers, whining softly when Izuna hugs him around the waist and pulls him closer. His kisses are so soft, so languid.

“I love you so much, you know.” Izuna nuzzles against his skin and Madara closes his eyes, letting himself just be for a moment. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

Madara nods slowly. “I know, otouto. I want this with you. I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Of course. You and them.” Izuna strokes his belly and Madara ignores the sting of tears in the backs of his eyes. No more crying. Not now, when everything has come together.

Izuna’s hand slips up beneath the bottom of his shirt and Madara lets it, lounging back against him while Izuna pets his stomach and kisses and licks the back of his neck. The skin there tingles under his attention and his muscles go lax under the gentle attentions of his alpha’s touch. Hard to believe that Hashirama had him afraid to be touched here.

“Such a perfect omega.” Izuna curls tighter around him, his legs bracketing Madara’s, arms shifting to hold him closer and tighter. “Any alpha would be so lucky to have you.”

“Says the kindest, most thoughtful alpha I’ve ever known.” Madara has to struggle to get the words to leave his lips, the relaxation making him feel almost sleepy.

Izuna sighs against his skin and gives him a gentle nip, and Madara only keens softly in answer. “I’m going to take care of you and the pups, whether there’s just the one or more than that. You mean everything to me, Madara. Nothing could ever change that.”

The use of his name has Madara melting back into Izuna’s embrace as he purrs softly, letting Izuna touch him and praise him. Soft kisses turn into nibbles and licks, preparing the skin to be bitten. Even though he knows Izuna has never taken a mate before him, Madara is impressed at how easily he handles the necessary work to make Madara feel relaxed in his embrace. Truly, Izuna is one of the best alphas in the world.

Then Madara feels the distinct press of teeth, and they do not give to softness.

He doesn’t have a chance to tense up before Izuna’s teeth sink in. There is only pressure but barely any pain, a stinging discomfort that gives into a sensation of _rightness_ settling into his bones. Izuna presses ever deeper and then holds it, soft puffs of air from Izuna’s nose tickling Madara’s skin before he finally leans away. And then is back a moment later, tongue laving the bitten skin to lick up the blood and soothe the wound to close.

A deep purr rises from Madara’s chest as his chin hits his breastbone, content to let his alpha shower him in affection now. _His_ alpha, _his_ mate. Izuna is _his,_ and he rumbles and kisses and licks Madara’s nape. It barely hurts. He did an excellent job preparing.

“Nii-san,” Izuna murmurs against his neck, then licks him again. The long, warm strokes of his tongue have Madara’s body growing steadily more relaxed. He could fall asleep like this.

Madara is drawn back against Izuna’s chest, a hand cupping his head to tilt it so Izuna can lay a kiss against his lips. His hand cups over the wound on the back of Madara’s neck, keeping it covered so that nothing can irritate it, and Madara trills happily.

Bitten and claimed and mated, his body already seeded with his mate’s pups. This is better than anything Madara could have imagined for himself after… After _that._

“Stay here, okay?” Izuna kisses him again, and Madara flutters his lashes in answer. “I’m going to get some gauze so your hair doesn’t rub against it while it’s healing.”

Madara makes a small sound of complaint when his alpha leaves him but he waits patiently, turning to press his cheek down against the arm of the couch while he waits. Izuna returns shortly and coaxes him into sitting back up once more, dabbing the back of Madara’s neck with peroxide before smoothing gauze and medical tape over the area.

Nothing hurts, and Madara trills again so that Izuna knows just how happy he is.

He turns to face Izuna properly as deft fingers find the bobby pins and elastic bands in his hair, pulling them all free so that his hair falls around his face once more. But his eyes drop to Izuna’s throat instead, tongue darting out to wet his teeth. He should mark Izuna in turn, should make it clear to everyone who might see him that Izuna is mated and attached to an omega who loves him. Madara is not intending on sharing him.

“It’s all right.” Izuna cups the back of his head and draws him closer, and Madara climbs on top of him without preamble. Mark his alpha. _Mate_ his alpha. “You can bite me, Nii-san.”

“You’re sure?” Madara looks him in the eyes, because he can’t do it if Izuna is uncertain.

“Of course I’m sure.” Izuna arches his neck, baring it with a glitter of approval in his eyes that Madara feels all the way down to the core of his being. “I want this just as much as you do, maybe even more. I’m the one who’s been waiting for this, after all.”

He croons and Madara nods, tucking himself down so he can press his lips against Izuna’s throat. Izuna’s scent leads him to one of his scent glands, the traditional place for an omega to return an alpha’s bite. It’s more painful, sharper and more sensitive, but very few alphas allow an omega to mark in return for that reason. Hashirama never did.

Madara never questioned it at the time. Why would he even waste time thinking about it?

He nibbles the thin skin there, shivering when he’s rewarded with a noseful of Izuna’s peppery alpha musk once more. Hands smooth up and down his back, keeping him calm, kneading the slight tension from his muscles until he feels warm and languid once more. Izuna is so good to him and for him. It would be wrong not to claim him in turn.

His teeth find purchase on Izuna’s skin and he sucks the skin there, then _bites._ The skin breaks immediately and blood hits his tongue, a tang of copper that makes Madara shudder. Izuna only sighs and tilts his head back further, pressing his throat into Madara’s teeth, helping him deepen the bite. The deeper, the better. The more possessive.

A low growl warbles up his throat, because he doesn’t want anyone else to think they could ever, _ever_ have a chance with Izuna. His little brother belongs to him and no one else.

“That’s so good,” Izuna slurs, and Madara only removes his teeth so he can lick the blood away from Izuna’s skin. “Mm, Nii-san, you’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Madara settles down against his chest, sated, and returns to lapping at his throat to make sure the mark is nice and clean. And deep enough, or he will deepen it.

He doesn’t want to stop cleaning the wound with his own tongue but even he knows when the limit comes. The peroxide smells too antiseptic but Madara dabs it onto Izuna’s skin carefully before bandaging it like Izuna did for him, planting a kiss on top of the fabric. His, all his. Izuna belongs to him now, and he belongs to Izuna just like it should be.

All he wants to do is snuggle down into the couch and cling to his mate, which explains the irritated snarl that leaves his lips when Izuna jostles him to get up once more.

“We can cuddle as much as you want after you eat,” he says, though he looks impressed by that sound. Did he think Madara wasn’t capable of being irritated by him?

“Fine.” Madara sighs but lets Izuna pull him up to his feet once more, squeaking when Izuna abruptly sweeps him up against his chest, all lean alpha muscle and strength.

“Sorry to bother you when I know you just want to rest.” Izuna nuzzles his throat and carries him into the kitchen, far too close to justify picking him up at all. Izuna is far too indulgent, and Madara loves it. “But you and the pups need to eat before you can nap.”

Madara ignores the soft heat in his cheeks when Izuna sets him down in the chair he’s been using since he moved in. It must be considered his place, now. “Sorry, I know. We should probably start the laundry, too. I think we dirtied the entire nest.”

“What a tragedy. I don’t regret it just to see you splayed underneath me like that.” Izuna leans down and swiftly kisses him, and Madara whines against his lips. “You eat. I’ll start on the laundry and we can cuddle on the couch together while it’s washing and drying. Let me spoil you just a little more before you start insisting on doing chores again.”

Snorting, Madara steals another kiss. “Fine. But only because I’m sleepy right now.”

“Sweet omega.” Izuna brushes their noses together and rumbles against his cheek, then turns to start on breakfast with a bright smile that makes Madara feel too warm.

He lays his head on the table and watches Izuna as he cooks instead, the savory scents in the room making his stomach grumble right before a petulant meow catches his attention. Madara glances beneath the table and laughs, leaning down to pick Kurama up off of the floor as he combs his fingers through fluffy orange fur. He must have been lonely with them occupied over the last couple of days, but in the end, Madara had to agree with Izuna. Letting him into the nest would have gotten cat hair in unfortunate places.

“Did you miss me?” he asks, giving Kurama’s head a few gentle strokes.

In answer, Kurama plants his front paws on Madara’s chest and leans up to scrub his cheek against Madara’s jaw. He purrs loud and long, nosing under his chin, sniffing him as if he might have dedicated a change in his scent as well. Cats have sharp noses.

“I guess that’s a yes.” Madara coos and strokes his hand down Kurama’s back, smiling when Kurama rolls under his hand, arching up against his chest. “I’ll brush you after breakfast.”

Izuna huffs and shakes his head even as he turns his attention to the stove once more. “Unbelievable. You know, I did literally everything right the first day I brought him home and he still treats me like I’m the one living in _his_ house and meeting _his_ basic needs.”

“Cats are like that sometimes. You just aren’t patient enough.” Madara smiles when Izuna shoots him a dirty look, giggling when Kurama grooms his jaw with a rough tongue.

Kurama meows up at him and Madara coos down at him in return, rubbing behind his little ears and grinning when the cat curls up in his lap, purring and content. He keeps a hand stroking Kurama’s back and side to keep him calm and watches Izuna work, admiring the smooth and easy movements of his mate as he easily handles far too much food.

It’s going to be so much fun to see him frazzled while taking care of an infant.

“We’re going to have to… Tell some people about this. Tobirama’s going to smell it on me as soon as I walk into the office.” Izuna opens the cabinet above his head, pulling down plates and bowls and rifling through a drawer for silverware. “And Kagami deserves to know.”

Madara would tell everyone if he could, though he knows they should exercise at least a little caution about things. “I want to tell Touka. I think she should get to know.”

“Absolutely. I agree with you.” Izuna kisses the top of his head, darting out of the way of Kurama’s swiping paw before going back to the stove. “Do we tell Otousama?”

Madara looks back down at Kurama, smoothing his fingers through the cat’s fur until he resettles and does not try to climb down to chase Izuna across the kitchen. After all, Izuna’s ankles are unprotected right now. “He’s going to find out the next time he visits. And he’ll probably want to come check on us if I tell him that you came home.”

“Yeah.” Izuna turns off the stove and turns to look at Madara, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to let him say anything rude to you, Nii-san. I mean that.”

Madara resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows that Izuna and Tajima have a lot of pain in their pasts, and they need time to work through it. But they need to work through it _together,_ too. “He won’t. He knows he isn’t in a place to say anything to me.”

Izuna does not need to hear any of the conversation Madara and Tajima shared curled up in his nest together. Does not need to hear about how much Tajima blames himself for Madara ending up with an alpha who would go on to beat him and abuse him in much the same way his sire abused Tajima. As if it could ever be his fault. He didn’t know.

None of them knew about Hashirama. Madara had no way to tell them.

Kurama wraps a fluffy paw around his hand when he starts to take it back and he tucks it under Kurama’s head instead, cooing softly when Kurama nuzzles his palm and gives it a few swift licks. He might not be able to put the cat down when it’s time to eat at this rate.

“I’m just saying. Letting people talk down to you or about you isn’t going to be happening if I’m around to hear it.” Izuna turns and starts bringing food over the table, and Kurama thankfully hops off of Madara’s lap of his own volition.

“Well, I appreciate that.” Madara smiles up at him and Izuna flushes and ducks his head. Cute little otouto wasn’t really ready for his affections to be returned after all.

Despite his insistence that he wants to do it, Izuna lets Madara help load the dishwasher after breakfast before all but carrying him back to the couch. He nests while Izuna makes trips upstairs and back down, stripping the nest of its bedding so all of it can be washed while Madara cuddles into his own fresh, clean pillows and blankets. Not alone, either, because Kurama immediately hops up onto the couch and climbs into his waiting arms.

This is nice, just relaxing while his alpha does the chores. Madara will have to get used to it once his belly swells enough to make doing much more than this difficult on him, but he’ll have the pups to occupy himself with then. Izuna will get to pamper him just this last day.

Once the washer has been set, Izuna slips in next to him in the nest, pulling Madara’s back against his chest and tucking his face down into Madara’s hair. “I’m just going to stay right here until the damned thing goes off, so don’t mind me.”

“Believe me, I don’t mind.” Madara sets Kurama on the back of the couch so he can curl his hands around Izuna’s wrists, nudging them up over his stomach where he wants them.

He dozes off to the sensation of Izuna’s hands gently slipping underneath his shirt to touch his bare skin, the wonder in his caress soothing Madara so completely. Now, he can finally have the pups he’s always wanted without fearing an alpha who will punish them and beat them. He has an alpha who will cherish them and love them with everything he is.

An alpha who loves _Madara_ just as much. His life cannot possibly get better than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the posting schedule being kind of strange! my job is considered essential right now so hours have been a bit all over the place.


	26. Chapter 26

Kagami arrives bright and early the next morning, a brown bag dangling from one hand as he all but shoves Izuna out of the way to get into the house. “Move, Izuna-chan, I’m not here to see  _ you _ — Oh, what happened to your neck? Cut yourself shaving?”

“What kind of question is that? You know what this is.” Izuna rolls his eyes and shuts the front door before Kurama can shoot across the living room and make a desperate bid for the outdoors, a move that never ends well. He doesn’t like being outside, and yet.

“I do. Congratulations.” Kagami shoots him a grin over his shoulder, leaving his shoes on the mat and taking the slippers Izuna offers him. “Where is he? How’s he doing?”

Izuna tilts his head toward the ceiling. “Upstairs getting changed out of his pajamas. He’s doing well. Did you ever doubt that I could take care of him, Kagami?”

“Of course not. I wouldn’t have pushed for it if I thought the match wasn’t a good one, but I need to check on my cousins. Especially Dara-chan after everything.” Kagami brandishes the bag at him, then yanks it away when Izuna makes a grab for it. It smells like pastry. Trust Kagami to pick up something to eat after he and Madara have already eaten.

“He’s doing better. It’s still going to be a process, but I’m doing my best to make sure he knows he can trust me.” In a movie, the press of his teeth against Madara’s nape might have been a happily ever after, but real life does not work like that. And he once bore Hashirama’s mark, too, so they still have work to do. “No roughhousing, all right?”

Kagami sticks his tongue out at him. “You’re no fun— I’m  _ kidding. _ Don’t give me that look. I know not to be rough with him. I’m just excited to get to see him again.”

“Missed him too?” Izuna hazards the guess, wincing when Kagami nods. “Yeah… Yeah.”

“For a while, I really thought I’d just lost my favorite cousin because he was off in married bliss, getting ready to have a litter of his own.” Kagami sets the pastry bag down on the coffee table and straightens, carding a hand through his tousled hair. “And I had to be happy about that, because I wanted to be happy for him. But I hated it  _ so _ much.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Izuna says, patting Kagami on the shoulder. Because it’s true.

The way Kagami shrugs him off has him protesting before Kagami levels him with a small, kind smile. “You felt it a little harder than I did, ne? But I knew I wasn’t the only one that missed him. I don’t think any of us expected him to just disappear like that.”

“He’s not going to do that again,” Izuna promises. “You can come see him as much as you want. He’d be happy to have company when I have to go in to work, anyway.”

A mischievous little smile tugs at Kagami’s lips as he nods, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m glad to hear that, then. Because I’m going to come over all the time. We have so much time to make up for, you know? And I have so much I want to tell him.”

“Just try not to overwhelm him.” Izuna’s voice is stern, but Kagami only smiles at him.

Going into work today is not exactly what Izuna wants to do, but Tobirama has been doing more than his fair share to hold the fort down. Izuna needs to come back to the office and put in his own effort, to prove this still means a lot to him and it wasn’t just something to distract him until he dragged his head out of his ass and told Madara the truth. While he’s happy to have his personal life sorted out, that does not mean his business life is.

Izuna shrugs into his blazer just as Madara comes downstairs, smothering a yawn against the palm of his hand. “Hi, Kagami. It’s nice of you to be able to come over like this.”

“Madara-nii!” Kagami darts across the floor and Izuna is ready to snap at him, teeth clenching shut when Kagami stops short just to give Madara a warm, gentle hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long, of course I was happy coming to see you again.”

Madara sighs and tilts his head, nuzzling against Kagami’s cheek and chirping in greeting. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it? I hope Izuna wasn’t rude while he was at your place.”

“No ruder than usual,” Kagami says, and Izuna scowls at him as he straightens his shirt, ensuring the blazer lays over it correctly. Damn getting dressed up, but he thinks he can repay Tobirama just this much. “He cried all over me, but I’m used to that.”

“Cried?” Madara glances at him, concern written in those beautiful dark eyes.

Kagami tucks his cheek against Madara’s, trilling softly at him to get his attention. “He was just being a baby about telling you how he felt about you. He  _ really _ loves you, you know. Big idiot should have just told you that— You smell different. What is that?”

When he tilts his head to sniff at Madara’s throat, Izuna braces himself for the discovery, ensuring he has his keys and wallet in case Kagami chases him out of the house. It might have seemed hasty, but Izuna has wanted this exact life with Madara since he was younger, and Madara at the very least wanted pups ever since he was old enough to start talking about them. Izuna can remember those memories far too well.

“Oh!” Kagami leans back, slapping a hand over his mouth as his face lights up. That’s a better reaction than Izuna prepared for. “You’re pregnant! That’s what I’m smelling.”

Madara nods shyly, smoothing a hand over his belly, and Izuna bites back a rumble of pleasure at the sight. “I went into sympathy heat when Izuna was in rut.”

“That’s good, though, isn’t it? You used to say how much you wanted a pup of your own.” Kagami holds out a hand and Madara takes it, bringing it to his stomach. Even though there’s nothing there to see or feel yet, Kagami coos in delight and comes closer to him, fingers splaying over his shirt. “And now you’re going to get one for sure.”

“I did. I still want one.” Madara smiles warmly, his eyes meeting Izuna’s over the top of Kagami’s bowed head. Izuna lifts his chin in response, glowing with pride.

Kagami chirps at him and bumps their foreheads together. “Ah, I can’t wait! You’re going to have such a cute little pup. All that hair, though. That’s going to be impressive.”

“It’s about that time,” Izuna says, and Madara extricates himself from Kagami’s touch to come to Izuna. “Let me just give him a goodbye kiss and you can have him back, Kagami.”

On cue, his cousin pouts at him. “Fine, fine, but make it fast. I’m a  _ guest _ here, after all.”

Izuna ignores him, cupping Madara’s cheek to draw him closer. He lays a gentle kiss on Madara’s lips, reveling in the soft warmth of his omega’s mouth and the smooth skin beneath his fingers. When Madara mews softly at him, Izuna debates for just a second about calling off for the day and working from home. But he needs to go into the office, and besides, he’ll be able to take off time when Madara is at the end of his pregnancy.

Alphas away from their pregnant omegas during that time don’t fare so well.

“Have a good day, all right?” Izuna gives Madara another brief kiss, smiling when Madara trills softly up at him. That sound does wonders for his heart. “Call me or text me if you need me for anything. Just because Kagami’s here doesn’t mean I won’t come home.”

“I know that.” Madara takes Izuna’s hand and tugs it toward his belly, and Izuna is glad to touch him, thumb stroking over his stomach through the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He can just imagine the firm muscle beneath his touch softening as their pups grow.

Izuna crouches down so he can press a kiss against Madara’s stomach, nuzzling against him and smiling when Madara giggles above him. “You be good, too. Being little is no excuse.”

“I’m sure they can hear you.” Madara rolls his eyes as Izuna stands once more. “Now go on to work, go! If you’re late, Tobirama’s not going to be happy you came in at all.”

“Stickler for the rules,” Izuna agrees, taking a jacket for himself. It’s supposed to rain against this afternoon, and he doesn’t want to be caught in the downpour for any reason. Not layered up like he is right now. “I love you, Nii-san. And I hope you have a good day.”

“Make lots of money, husband.” Madara quirks a brow at him, and Izuna sucks in a sharp breath. Wow,  _ that _ is… Fuck. “I love you, too, otouto. And I’ll see you this evening.”

The drive to the office is too short as far as Izuna is concerned, but he does make it on time and steps out of the elevator to see Danzo sitting behind his receptionist desk with a sheaf of paperwork at his elbow. As soon as he notices Izuna, he stands up immediately, his face stained a nice shade of pink that draws a small chuckle from Izuna.

“Uchiha-san’s rut went well, I hope,” Danzo says, glancing up and stopping as his eyes slip down from Izuna’s face, most likely settling on the fresh gauze on his throat. “O-oh.”

Izuna pats the bandage with an indulgent smile. “You could say it went well. Tobirama in?”

“In his office, yes.” Danzo blinks at him a handful of times, then sits back down and goes back to his work. Precious kid. Tobirama really did pick a hard worker, at least.

After giving the door a courtesy rap of his knuckles, Izuna pushes Tobirama’s door open and grins when his business partner glances up from his computer. Of course, his face is already set into the scowl Izuna knows so well, and he wonders if Tobirama expected him back this early. He doesn’t even get to think of something clever and annoying to level at Tobirama before those scarlet eyes slip from his gaze, and he tilts his head pointedly to let Tobirama have a good look at the gauze. It’s impossible not to notice it.

“Looks like you had an eventful few days.” Tobirama points to the chair across from his desk, and Izuna beams at him as he drops into it. “You even dressed nicely. Why is that?”

“Well, you always hated me coming in underdressed because you said it made me look unprofessional. And I guess I owe you, since you knew.” Izuna raises an eyebrow at him, because he most definitely would like to know more of that Tobirama does.

He spent most of his life trying to keep the feelings he had for Madara tucked in so close to his heart that no one else would see them. That someone did, and that it was someone he did not expect, is something he doesn’t think he can live with until he knows exactly how much Tobirama knew, and how he figured it out. He also can’t lie, curious as to why Tobirama would nudge Madara in his direction. Why that was okay with him.

“I did know.” Tobirama sets his chin in the cup of his palm, raising an eyebrow at Izuna. “You weren’t all that obvious, if that’s what you’re concerned about. It was small things.”

“Not small enough, evidently.” He shouldn’t be worrying about it, and he knows that. Because he has Madara now. Because everything worked out for the better, and Izuna finally closed the distance between them and made Madara his mate. His omega. His  _ wife. _

Tobirama shakes his head. “No, they were certainly small enough. But I grew up next to you, Izuna. It was probably obvious to me because of that. It wasn’t to anyone else.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just letting it bother me for no reason.” The latent paranoia, probably, but Izuna can suffer through that until it abates. “I wanted to thank you, though, for… Being there for him. Not just for talking to him about how I felt, but supporting him. You’re a good friend, Tobirama. You always have been.”

Pale brows dart up, Tobirama’s sharp eyes searching Izuna’s face before he scoffs and leans back in his chair. “Well, well. If all I had to do was tell Madara you were in love with him to get that reaction out of you, I might have done that years ago.”

“Shut up. I value you as a person.” Izuna huffs at him and Tobirama smiles, a rare softening of the harsh lines of his face. “I feel bad about not being around the office so much because you were looking out for both of us, and I wasn’t around enough, too.”

This time, Tobirama waves him off. “Believe it or not, I like not having you in the office. Lets me train Danzo to do what I tell him to do so that you can’t ruin him.”

“I’m serious.” Izuna levels him with a look, and Tobirama sends him one right back.

“And  _ I’m _ serious, Izuna. I don’t mind not having you around the office, especially when I know you’re busy doing something important.” Tobirama leans across the desk, and Izuna presses his lips into a line, not quite content with that response. “I know how much Madara means to you. Believe me, I do. I watched you watch him. And I know that he’s doing better because he has you to lean on. He has you for support, and he needs that.”

Izuna sighs softly and ducks his head. “Thank you for understanding. I still didn’t mean to stick you with all of this work. I know you’ve had to go above and beyond because of me.”

“I have Danzo so I can delegate tasks accordingly, and you’ve helped plenty from home. Everything is fine.” Tobirama turns his attention to his laptop, the subtle clue that Izuna has been dismissed. “It seems like you were successful in more ways than one.”

A slow, sly smile twists Izuna’s lips. “So you can smell it. I wondered if you could.”

“Beta or not, I can smell everything perfectly fine. It just doesn’t register the same way, but I know what a pregnant omega smells like.” Tobirama meets his eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitches just slightly. “Congratulations to the both of you. Name it after me.”

Immediately, Izuna shoves himself up out of his chair. “Fuck you. Tobirama is an awful name for a baby. I can’t believe your father would go and saddle you with it like that.”

“Bastard.” Tobirama looks at his laptop again. “I sent you an email so you can catch up on all the exciting things you missed while you were busy breeding your brother. Try not to bleed all over your blazer if you need to change out the gaze. It’s nice that you dressed up.”

There is just too much in that to process right now, and Izuna does not storm back to his office with a flush crawling up the back of his neck. He huffs a little laughter as he shuts the door behind him, slinging his blazer around the back of his chair before dropping down to get to work. The sooner he gets invested, the sooner time will pass, and the sooner he can go home and curl up around Madara once again. Such simple aspirations now.

At least Tobirama took it well. They need to tell Tajima, but Izuna hopes that can wait.

He rubs a hand up the back of his neck as he opens the email from Tobirama, though it’s hard not to think of that night now. The blood. The screams. The snarling.

_ Not right now, _ he thinks, but Izuna knows he can only keep this up for so long before he needs to properly revisit what happened that night, if only in his mind. Not at work, though. And not when Madara still needs him, needs his reassurance and care during the early weeks of his pregnancy. He just needs to hold it together for Madara.

Omegas rarely lose a pregnancy, and Tajima certainly went through five successful ones with little issue, but Izuna will never be able to stop worrying about Madara.

A knock at the door has him glancing up to see Danzo peeking in, holding a file folder in one hand. “Ah, I was asked to bring this to you. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Not at all, come in.” Izuna is glad for the distraction. He needs to focus at work and save all of his concern for when he gets home and can shower Madara with more affection.

Danzo brings him the file folder and Izuna notes the way he’s dressed with a private smile, patiently allowing Danzo to explain all of it to him even though he knows what he’s looking at as soon as it’s laid in front of him. The skirt must be for Tobirama, though it’s certainly appropriate in length and probably did not trip his radar. Or it did, and Tobirama is incredibly good at acting like nothing touches below the surface.

Either could be true. Izuna wonders how long Danzo has been flirting in all of his absences.

“Thank you,” he says when Danzo finishes, turning to his laptop. “I’ll get started on this as soon as I finish the email Tobirama sent me. And I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

And with that, Izuna slips back into work with a peace that makes it feel as though he never really left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to fix my posting schedule~ hope you guys enjoy this chapter!


	27. Chapter 27

They have a remote meeting with an investor right before lunch, squeezed together behind Izuna’s desk with their knees knocking together. Countless outlines later and two hours of discussing the finer details of their plans, Izuna is exhausted and falls back into his chair with a groan the moment the call is disconnected. This project means the world to him, but he never anticipated just how much work  _ talking _ about it could be.

“I never thought I’d meet someone more detail-oriented than me,” Tobirama informs him, shutting Izuna’s laptop and rubbing a hand over his squeezed-shut eyes.

“Not in this lifetime at least,” Izuna quips, and Tobirama scowls at him as he sits back in his own chair. Getting it through the door had been an interesting test of patience. “Did you make the outlines? Because they’re a lot tidier than yours usually are.”

“Are you taking shots at my outlines when I can hardly follow your train of written thought?” Tobirama arches an eyebrow at him and Izuna bites down on the tip of his tongue, trying to swallow the little growl of annoyance that rumbles in his throat.

Just because Izuna cannot quite connect point A to point B when he has to type everything out does not  _ mean _ — “At least you can read my handwriting, because  _ yours _ —”

“I didn’t make the outlines.” Tobirama cuts him off immediately and Izuna rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts, gathering the papers strewn out in front of them into neater stacks. “Danzo did. He politely informed me that neither of us seemed capable of properly explaining ourselves and so offered to do his best to translate it for us.”

Of course Danzo did. Izuna finishes neatening the paperwork and watches as Tobirama stands to stretch, his hair dyed in shades of the sun setting in the window behind them. White picks up just about any color; Izuna dragged him out to a bar just the once when they started working together and was mesmerized at how strobe lights looked bouncing off of Tobirama’s hair. Sue him. He used to drink a lot at night clubs.

Never again. He only ever went in search of distractions from his own tangled and snarled feelings, and now he doesn’t have to worry about trying to fix himself anymore.

“Well, good to know you managed to find the only person in this world capable of figuring out how to make our work look professional.” The tone of his voice more than the light mutual jab is likely what has Tobirama glancing over his shoulder at Izuna.

The two of them have known each other since childhood, and Izuna is well aware of how some alphas and omegas feel the need to treat the betas in their lives. As disposable, as unnecessary even though such things are far from true. It never surprised him that Tobirama became as solitary as he did, that dragging him anywhere to meet people only made him frostier than usual. Made him go cold and quiet and occasionally angry.

“Danzo is good at what he does.” Tobirama is slow to reply, and Izuna cannot stop the way his eyebrows twitch up in silent question. “Don’t look at me like that, Uchiha.”

“The two of you seem to get along well enough,” he teases just to watch Tobirama’s lips smash together into a thin, irritated line. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop. He’s good enough at what he does as far as I can tell. Helped you hold down everything here while I was gone.”

Crimson eyes roll and Izuna snickers as Tobirama retrieves his suit jacket from the back of his chair, shrugging it on. Alphas run hot; Izuna is no exception, and sitting close to him must have been stifling. “I’m not going to fuck him if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

Izuna chokes on air while Tobirama hooks a hand around the back of his office chair and drags it around the desk and to the door once more. After delivering the outlines and ensuring they had everything they needed for the meeting, Danzo made himself scarce, so at the very least he didn’t have to  _ hear _ any of that. Izuna is never going to unhear it. Izuna is going to have unpleasant dreams about his business partner from now on.

This is what he gets for cracking inappropriate jokes. He definitely deserved this.

Tobirama swings the door open and shoves his chair against the frame, running a hand down his face as he does. “Are you going to video chat with Madara during lunch?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Izuna resists the urge to fidget with his phone, to find out if Madara might have texted him during the meeting. “Did you need to talk to him about something?”

Silence for a long enough moment that the hairs on the back of Izuna’s neck prickles, and he resists the urge to bare his teeth at nothing. At no one. Tobirama is not at fault for his strange reaction and Izuna has his own issues that he needs to take care of.

He would never make anyone else bear the brunt of them because he struggles. “You have every right to refuse this request that I’m going to make, and you know I’ll never bring it up again if you do.” Tobirama looks back at him, and something in his face is pinched, is pained. “Chichiue always loved Madara like he was one of our family.”

Oh.  _ Oh. _ Izuna nods slowly. He hasn’t spoken to Senju Butsuma in quite a few years, but that was more of Izuna’s doing than anyone else’s. His… Jealousy over Hashirama meant he often distanced himself from as many of the Senju as possible, and now he knows why Tobirama was careful to never bring it up when around him. He knew the truth. Doubtful the others did, especially when Izuna himself was hardly ready to face the reality of it.

“You can say no,” Tobirama repeats, but Izuna can already guess what he’s going to ask.

“Your father might want to see the baby?” Izuna keeps his voice as calm as he can, rubs a hand down the back of his neck to chase away the lingering hint of aggression.

Tobirama dips his head. Guilt flashes through his eyes for a moment as if simply bringing this up was enough to make him upset with himself. “If Touka and I are the only Senju you and Madara want in your lives, no one would begrudge you that. You have your reasons.”

“Butsuma was a hard-nosed man, but I don’t think he would have raised Hashirama into what he became.” Not when, as far as Izuna knows, the others are fine. Kawarama and Itama, the two he hasn’t seen since he graduated high school and ran for freedom.

“No. He didn’t. Hashirama’s crimes are his own.” Tobirama shoves a hand against the door when it tries to swing shut, and finally his eyes meet Izuna’s gaze once more. “My brothers would be good to you and to Madara. I don’t want you to think badly of my family.”

Of course not. Izuna wonders if Tobirama was braced for their partnership to splinter after what happened, if he thought Izuna would turn his rage on the entire family. Others might have. Some alphas did. He knows this as well as anyone else, though he hadn’t stopped to think about most of the Senju up until Tobirama brought them up. He had other things to focus on, but it makes sense they would want to see Madara again.

They all grew up together, side by side. When they were children, they were friends. Izuna cannot count how many nights he spent at the Senju house and vice versa, how he and his brothers ran with the Senju so often that they were nearly one large pack.

Except for… Well. But Tajima and Butsuma always got along, even before that night. Even after that night, though Tajima was far more careful for good reason.

Izuna remembers Butsuma watching them after that night, too, when Tajima needed moments alone. His memories are still splintered but those are clearer, what came after that night. A rough but warm hand ruffling his hair, a whispered  _ you’re a good kid _ here and there when Izuna wondered if he might have done something bad after all.

“Your father was a good man,” Izuna says, and Tobirama nods slowly, though his expression is guarded. Waiting for the  _ but, _ most likely. “I have to talk to Madara. I can’t answer for him. He’d kill me for trying. But personally, I don’t have a problem with your family.”

Tobirama nods, and the tension in his broad shoulders eases as he turns his attention back to the chair. “Thank you for being willing to ask him. That’s all I wanted, really.”

He manages to force the chair through the frame without chipping or scuffing it, and Izuna waits for the door to shut behind him before he breathes a sigh of relief. Right, he can bring that up to Madara tonight when he goes home and they have a chance to properly talk about it. Izuna doesn’t mind the Senju, but Madara might, and it would be wrong of him to make a choice for Madara that he should make for himself. And their pup.

Or  _ pups. _ Izuna buries his face in his hands for a moment, inhaling and exhaling until his heartbeat calms once more. One or more, it doesn’t matter to him. Tajima never managed more than one pup at a time and yet Izuna grew up in a fairly large litter just the same.

Tobirama and Kawarama were twins, but the Senju were otherwise also born apart.

Once he has himself back under control, Izuna retrieves his bento from its drawer and reaches for his phone to see how Madara and Kagami are handling their day together. He also makes a mental note to speak to Touka soon, to thank her properly for saving Madara, and to invite her and Mito to come to his house if they want to. He doubts Madara will mind having them visit, to share the good news with them as well.

Touka deserves a  _ reward _ for everything she managed to do for them. She really does.

Before he manages to send the message he wants to, another bings in his inbox instead. The number is not familiar to him, so he sighs and opens it instead.

_ Uchiha Izuna? This is Sarutobi Hiruzen. Your father’s boyfriend? _

Oh for the love of— Izuna sets his phone down and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No,” he tells himself, “this is fine. Otousama is going to be in our lives now no matter what. Probably need to just make good with his boyfriend and call it a day.”

Weirder things have happened, after all. Izuna can stand to make acquaintances at least.

_ This is me. Did you get my phone number from Otousama? _ He keeps his reply brief but polite and opens up another message to Kagami, firing off a quick one to ask how Madara is doing and if they’re busy right now. Easier to ask him than to ask Madara, because Madara might want to just drop everything even if he’s having a good time right now.

In contrast, Kagami will tell him to fuck off and message later if it’s like that.

His phone vibrates as soon as he sends the message. Another reply from Hiruzen already.  _ I did. I hope that’s not weird. He just wanted me to have it in case of emergency. _

Emergency. Right. Izuna rolls his teeth over his lower lip, because they will have to tell Tajima at some point and Izuna is not sure he will ever be prepared for that. Part of him still thinks his father might hate him, but that could be pure projection as far as he knows. They never talked about… That. It was never something Izuna wanted to bring up.

No one particularly  _ wants _ to talk about killing their alpha when they were a child.

_ It’s not weird. _ It is a little weird, but Izuna is not in the mood for splitting hairs.  _ Thank you for letting me know you have it. I’ll save you into my contacts list. _

If something happens, Madara would want Tajima to know, and it makes perfect sense to have the number of his boytoy in case Izuna can’t reach Tajima for whatever reason. Maybe if he had someone to call that night, things might have gone down differently. Though he doubts that. He was not exactly running on logic when the scent hit him.

He shakes himself out of those thoughts when Kagami’s name shows up on his phone, picking it up in one hand and reaching for his chopsticks with the other. Madara bothered to make him a bento, and he should eat it instead of letting it get cold.

_ We’re just looking at furniture right now if you want to video chat him, _ Kagami tells him, and Izuna bites back a little thrilled sound. He can guess the kind of furniture.

They won’t be buying any until later in the pregnancy and certainly after Madara knows how many pups he’s carrying, but the thought of him already looking is adorable. A bassinet is a must, especially early after the pup is born. Keep them close and warm and safe and always within arm’s reach, always within nose’s reach of Izuna’s and Madara’s scents. If Izuna manages to sleep through the night for the first few months, it will be a miracle.

And pups wake up so much at night. He might just have to become nocturnal to cope.

_ I’ll pop open my laptop. Thank you. _ He leaves the gratitude purposefully vague, because there is plenty he needs to thank Kagami for. Let him take that however he wants to.

A piece of meat is shoved between his lips for him to chew as he opens the laptop once more and sets up the video call, groaning around the food. Perfectly seasoned and melting on his tongue because somehow, Madara is just excellent at cooking. Izuna will have to lay off and let him have his time at the stove instead of being overbearing and trying to do everything for him. After all, Madara can obviously do this just fine.

Izuna is just… Worried. But he doesn’t have to worry anymore. At least not right now.

Just before he sends the call through, a knock comes at the door, and he quickly swallows his food and lifts his head. “Come in!” It must be Danzo. Tobirama would hardly knock.

The door cracks open, and sure enough the omega peeks around the edge of it. “I already talked to Senju-san, but I thought I’d let you know that I’m stepping out for lunch, but I’ll be right back. Any calls will come straight through to your work line, Uchiha-san.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Danzo.” What a good, thoughtful boy. Izuna remembers how carefully Tobirama chose his words and wonders, but then sets that thought down. Later. He can tease Tobirama when some of the tension between their families is lessened.

Danzo smiles brightly at him and ducks his head a little before closing the door, and Izuna smiles warmly as he turns his attention to the laptop screen once more. He’s a good boy.

The call connects and Izuna makes a disbelieving sound to find a familiar orange face peering down at him, not quite focused on the lens of the camera but directly in front of the screen. Kurama meows petulantly at him, raising one hand to paw at the screen as if to say he is just as thrilled to see Izuna as Izuna is to see him. Like the little bastard is trying to open a different program to get Izuna’s face off of the screen.

_ “Oi, you don’t belong there!” _ Hands gather the cat up and lift him aside, Kurama yowling in irritation the entire way. But it’s worth it to see Madara’s face on the screen, bright and glowing and happy and just a little flushed. Excited? Izuna hopes so.

Kagami butts into the shot, sidling up next to Madara so close he has to push Madara’s hair back out of the way to avoid burying his face in it.  _ “Izuna-chan looks like he’s been having quite the workday. I should have known you were going to want to see Madara-nii.” _

“Can you blame me?” Izuna asks, and Kagami rolls his eyes but smiles just the same. “We had a hell of a meeting this afternoon. But we made some pretty big steps so it was well worth it. What kind of furniture have the two of you been looking at today?”

The blush across Madara’s cheeks deepens from rosy pink to red and Izuna tries not to stab his chopsticks into his food.  _ “I’ll show you when you get home. You have a nice bed, otouto, but there are some better options I think? For the pregnancy.” _

A new bed. A new bed picked out with Madara in mind. Izuna’s stomach somersaults so hard he feels momentarily dizzy. “We’ll definitely talk about it when I get home. So, how’s your day been? What has our wicked cousin gotten up to in my house?”

Kagami protests and Kurama eventually cries until Madara picks him back up to set him in his lap, combing his fingers through bright orange fur while they talk. All Izuna can really focus on is Madara and the food; even Kagami kind of becomes background noise until he gets loud enough to remind Izuna there is, in fact, a third person involved in the call.

It ends too soon for his liking, but Izuna will see Madara as soon as he goes home. And today has been a good day, better than most of them. He’s grateful for that.

And he’s certainly going to be making the most of it from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it has been entirely too long since i sat down to update this fic anyway here you go, a chapter!
> 
> i've changed my username on twitter so if you want to contact me, i am [@shotakawaki](https://twitter.com/shotakawaki) on twitter now!


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